Recoil
by Waterdancer
Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past returns. *Final Chapter and Epilogue is up*
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures.  It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Classification:  Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: A big thank you to Robin and Thorne.  You guys have been a well of encouragement, and you don't know how much I apperciate it.  It helped out tremendously.  Thank you to Robin for the great beta.  This is my VERY first attempt at a Vaughn fic.  Hope you guys like it.

"Recoil"

 The tropical sun beat down on Diana as she ran through the alleys of Rio. 

_Pop! Pop!_

A part of the brick wall exploded in small pink clouds as she rounded the corner.  How many men were there? She looked over her shoulder and saw two men in white chasing her. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she ran down the alley.  There was music coming from the street, and she could see that there was some sort of festival going on.  There was a large crowd gathering and people were walking from booth to booth looking at the various goods that were being sold.

_If I can just make it there, I can get away._

_ Pop! Pop!_

She was starting to sprint towards the crowd when a flash of hot pain shot through her. Reaching down, she touched her leg. She'd been shot.  _Son of a bitch! Ignoring the pain, she continued running._

She slowed into a jog as she reached the crowd. Looking behind her, she saw that the men seemed to have disappeared. 

"Pretty Silk?  Pretty silk for a pretty lady?" A merchant pulled her towards his booth.

"Pretty silk?" he said holding up jade scarf.  Diana looked around nervously and glanced back at the green scarf.  It was long enough to cover her long dark hair. _It may be just what I need._

As she was tying the scarf on, she heard a woman scream and some glass shatter. She turned her head slightly, and she could see two men coming closer to the booth where she standing.

She slipped the merchant the equivalent of one hundred American dollars "Do you see those two men right there?" she motioned to her pursuers coming through the crowd. He looked at her and nodded.  "Can you stall them, please?" Diana pleaded with him.  

The merchant looked back at her with cautious eyes.  "Please," she whispered. 

"Go," the merchant said quietly.  She mouthed, "Thank You," and ran down the street.

"Damn them!" Diana cursed.  Calling the CIA through the official channels had been a mistake, but there had been was no one else to contact. "We can't afford the risk it would take to get you out, Agent Rochelle.  You knew that when you volunteered for the mission," said the cold, monotone voice on the other end of the phone.

_There was only one person I can call. She thought as she ran into another dark alley. __I just hope that I'm not making another mistake by calling him._

She ran further down the alley and hid behind some boxes.  She pulled out her SAT phone and dialed the one man she could trust to try to get her out—Michael Vaughn.

***

Michael Vaughn sat on his couch watching the NHL Playoffs.  His favorite team, the LA Kings, were in the process of winning the series. It was his first day off in weeks, and he planned to enjoy every minute of it.  There were no counter-missions, no pining over Sydney, and no SD-6.  It was just him and Donovan sitting back and watching the game. _This is how it should be more often.  _

He chuckled to himself as he looked down at his clothes. Jogging pants and LA Kings T-shirt was the attire for the day.  He hadn't bothered to put on some real clothes on today or to shave. He had gotten up at noon, fed Donovan, went to get some coffee, came back home and turned on the game. A perfect, quiet day.

For the first time in years he wasn't sure if he wanted the Kings to win, and he knew who to blame.  Weiss had made a bet with him. 'If the Kings actually win the series, you have to let me fix you up with one of Angie's girlfriends.' Initially, he had resisted—he didn't want to be fixed up. Seeing his reluctance, Weiss looked at him as if he had lost his mind, "Do yourself a favor, Michael. Go out with someone. Get out the house. Stop pining for someone that you can't have."

As the goalie made a pivotal save, the phone rang.  _I bet it's Eric. _

"Look, if you calling to tell me what time to pick up—"

"Michael?" a familiar voice whispered.

"Who--Who is this?" he asked_. _

"I need your help," the voice whispered again, this time more urgently.

"I'll ask again, who is this?" he demanded.

"Dammit, Michael, has it been that long?" said the voice with a distinct Southern accent.  

_There is no way this is her. It's been too long._

"Diana?" he questioned. It had been five years since he'd talked to her, but he recognized the frustration in her voice. He had heard it often when they worked together.  There had been some of that frustration—with sadness—in her voice the last time they had talked. 

"Yes, it's me, Michael. How are you?" Diana whispered with more confidence than before.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" His heart skipped a beat_.  What is she doing calling me?  She wasn't supposed to make contact with anyone._

Diana laughed nervously on the other end. "What do you think?  Hey, how's Donnie?"

He smiled in spite of the surprise call from her.  She was the only one who called Donovan, "Donnie".  Other people had tried to call him that, but Vaughn had always corrected them. 

"He's fine.  Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I've screwed up.  Fucked everything up," she said with a voice that crackled with bitterness. 

 "What are you talking about?" he asked frowning.   

"The operation into SD-4. I've fucked everything up, Michael."

_Operation into SD-4? I wasn't told anything about this. "SD-4?  What the hell were you doing in SD-4?" he demanded as he started to pace the floor._

"It was supposed to be a simple operation.  A smash and grab, but the team--we were ambushed." He tensed up at her words.

"Ambushed? Diana, what are you talking about?" He asked confused, running his hand through his hair. "The operations were supposed to be classified." _I should know; I checked. _

"I'm not sure how it happened, but it did.  There were eight of us, and I'm the only one who got away.  The only one," she whispered.

Michael had never heard her like this.  It had been five years, but Diana had never been one to back down from a fight—that wasn't her. He could tell by her tone that she was scared.  "What do you need?"

"Extraction. I need to be extracted," she said with finality.  There was something in her voice frightened him. It was almost as if she wanted to rest, to stop fighting.  His instincts were screaming at the defeat in her voice. _This isn't you, Diana._

"Have you tried the official channels?" He continued to pace his living room, trying to control his quickening heart.  Diana was calling him, and he knew what that meant. There had been no one else left to call.  

"I tried that, but the CIA is disavowing the team's existence.  Michael, please. I need you." 

_How could they **not go in and help her?  We help assassins, terrorists, and other criminals all the time. He paced back and forth.  **__If I get involved in this, this could cost me everything. He shrugged off the thought. Diana needed him, and that's all that mattered. "Where are you?"_

"I'm in Rio right now, and I'm heading for Chile as soon as I can. It's going to be difficult, but I'm going to try to get some help from the locals here. I have a cover in Chile waiting for me; I'll be working as a bodyguard for the Countess Cassia."

He wrote scribbled this information down on a napkin from his coffee cup.  He needed to talk with Devlin. "I'll have you out of there within the week, Diana," he vowed, folding the napkin in half, and putting it in his pocket.

He could hear the relief in her voice. "Thank you, Michael.  I—"

A loud pop rang out over the line.  

He called her name several times but silence was his only answer.  Dropping the phone, he grabbed his keys. He'd call Devlin on the way to the office.  He already knew whom he wanted to send in to save Diana. There was only one person that he would trust with that job. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures.  It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Classification:  Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: A big thank you to Robin and Thorne.  You guys have been a well of encouragement, and you don't know how much I appreciate it.  It helped out tremendously.  Thank you to Robin for the great beta.  This is my VERY first attempt at a Vaughn fic.  Hope you guys like it.

****

"Diana Rochelle," Michael Vaughn said as he slid a photo of a woman running out of an office building across the table.  

"Who is she?" Sydney asked, running her hand over the picture. 

"Former co-worker of mine who now works in the black ops division of the CIA. She's been in deep cover for 5 years. She was photographed by SD-4 cameras after she had broken into their archives."  He could tell from Sydney's frown that she heard the concern in his voice, but he couldn't hide all of it.  He had tried. 

"What did she take?" Sydney asked.  

"It's not important. What is important is that we get her out of there.  The Alliance is after her, and the CIA can't help her out, because if the rescue goes bad, the whole operation within the Alliance and SD-6 could go down with it." He sighed as he slid more photographs over to Sydney. "What you're looking at is Diana's work. We got these photos from Rio. Those were two men that SD-4 sent to take her out; as you can see, she won."

He could see the shock on her face as she stared down at the black and white glossies.  It mirrored the look that had been on his face when he had first seen the images.  No matter how long someone was in this business, seeing what another human being could do when provoked was always startling.  Intel had told him that the two men--barely recognizable as men in the surveillance film--were alive, but Vaughn could not believe it.  His stomach twisted at the thought of Diana having to hurt someone so much.  He had seen men who enjoyed hurting others inflict less injuries; it must have been devastating for Diana.

"And she's supposed to be on our side?" Sydney looked up at Vaughn with her eyebrow raised.  

"She is," he vowed, running his hand through his hair. "I know she is." 

"Vaughn, she's been gone for almost five years. How do you know that she hasn't been working for K-Directorate or someone else?" He could see old memories playing across her face. He knew immediately what she was thinking about, but somehow he managed to bite back the retort, "_Diana isn't Noah". Instead he told her, "Sydney, Agent Rochelle is one of the best we have out there. If she's been turned, I—we'd know it."   _

In the dim light of the warehouse, he saw a flash of surprise in Sydney's eyes because of his outburst. "What's her last known location?"  

He slid an envelope across the table. "Chile. Your father was able to gain some intel from SD-6 after she broke into the archives:  the Alliance put a hit out on her.  She's a marked woman, and since SD-4 couldn't get the job done, they want Sloane to eliminate her and get back the information that she's taken. He's sending you, Dixon, and another team in to take her into custody. You will be going into a party as an art dealer.  Diana will be there working as a bodyguard for the Countess Cassia.  She's knows that the CIA is sending someone to get her out.  In that envelope, there is explicitly coded extraction information for her. When she makes contact, give her the coded information, and tell Dixon that you couldn't find her, or that she got away."

Sydney looked up from the pictures again.  "Why doesn't she leave the information somewhere and get out before we show up?"

"She doesn't know who to trust, nor does she know how close SD-6 is to her.  We can't just walk in there and take her out of there. But we just can't leave her there to die, either. Sydney, she's worked a long time to help bring down the Alliance.  She deserves to be brought home, to get her life back.  I know that I'm asking a lot, but I need your help.  Please."  

As much as he tried to hide it, he knew that his worry for Diana's safety showed in his plea for Sydney's help.  If he had been allowed, he would go get her himself_. But that was against protocol, he thought bitterly. _

Sydney looked at him and nodded curtly. "When do I leave?"

****

"Diana Rochelle is our top priority. She's stolen from SD-4, and for that she must be dealt with accordingly," Sloane said as he slid Sydney and Dixon a dossier on her and turned on the monitors. "This is the most recent picture that we have of her."  He pointed at the screen. "Her last known location is Chile.  You and Dixon will go there posing as art dealers. There you will attend the party of one Dominique Cassia.  We are sure that Rochelle is there as her bodyguard. When you find her, take her into custody. If she resists, kill her."

As they all left the briefing room, Jack noticed his daughter trying to catch his attention.  He nodded towards his office, and she followed him.  Once the door closed, He pulled out his frequency jammer. "We have two minutes."  

"What can you tell me about Diana Rochelle?" Sydney asked him hesitantly.  

"Just what Vaughn and Sloane have already told you.  She's part of the real black ops division of the CIA. She recently took some items from SD-4, and SD-6 has been chosen to recover her and the information that she stole from the Alliance.  However, you should made aware that she's out of control and bringing unnecessary attention to our operations.  Containment is necessary.  Which is why Devlin agreed when Vaughn requested to have you sent in to rescue her and get the intel."  

"Is Vaughn's concern professional or personal?" Sydney asked. 

Jack wasn't sure who was more surprised by the question: Sydney or himself.  His daughter was relaxing around him, and while a part of him enjoyed it, another part feared the possible consequences. "Why do you ask?"

"The information is important, but he kept talking about rescuing her instead."

Devlin had already discussed his concerns about the same issue with Jack.  Vaughn was too close to this mission to think through it logically, but he was also the only one that had any contact with Diana.  She *had* to be brought in before something happened. "She and Vaughn were involved before she started working in the black ops division."  

Sydney nodded  "Yes, he told me that they were partners."  

Jack remembered Devlin's earlier words  "More than partners, Sydney.  He was the reason she left."

He saw the disbelief and a hint of pain in his daughter's eyes before she could hide it.  He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't be surprised that Vaughn had a life before they met.  So had she.  He wanted to warn her against being personally involved with her handler--even though he was afraid that warning would be coming too late.  But he did neither.__

Clearing her throat, Sydney said, "Is there anything else?"

Information was the only thing he had to give her, the only way he could help keep her safe.  "She's dangerous, Sydney, and you need to approach her with caution. It is imperative that you convince her that you are with the CIA, because if you don't, and SD-6 finds her--it will mean the end for both of us." 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: A big thank you to Robin and Thorne. You guys have been a well of encouragement, and you don't know how much I appreciate it. It helped out tremendously. Thank you to Robin for the great beta. This is my VERY first attempt at a Vaughn fic. Hope you guys like it.

***

_Reckless. Loose Cannon._

The words that people used to describe her came out of nowhere as she semi-patrolled the grounds of the estate. Stung by the sudden reminder of her faults, she sat down on the grass, tears clouding her vision. It was her fault that they--Patrick, Daniel, Marisa, and the others—were dead. Patrick had warned against going into the SD-4 office building. "Something doesn't feel right," he said before they had gone in. "This is too easy."   
  
_I goaded him on. "Patrick, we can do this. We've had excellent success on these types of missions. In and out." __He always called me his lucky charm. She may have been reckless, but she got results. Except for Rick, none of them had been worried.  Every operation over the previous six months had gone somewhat smoothly. The occasional gunfight had ensued, but no one had been hurt or caught from the team. That night, everything should have gone according to plan. It had for a short time.  The surveillance cameras had gone out with a few keystrokes from Daniel, and the downloading of the archives had gone fine.  
  
However, as they were exiting out of the building, they found a team from SD-4 waiting. Marisa handed her the computer disk and whispered, "You know what to do. We split up and meet at the safehouse in a week. If we don't make it, you make sure this gets to the agency." They had hit the ground running. Diana had been the fastest among them, so she had been picked to run away and avoid all confrontation if possible. The others were to act as diversions. A week later, when she arrived at the safehouse in one of the back alleys of the city, the door had been already open. Drawing her gun, she started into the house.  
  
Pushing the living room door open, she dropped her gun to the floor as she saw the members of the team. __Her friends. They had been tied up and shot in the head. Marisa, Daniel, Jonathan, Kellie—all of them dead. __Where was Patrick?  
  
"Diana," a voice rasped behind her. She picked up her gun and spun around. "Patrick?" she whispered.  
  
As he stumbled to the floor, he made a low moaning sound. She sheathed her gun and ran over to him. Rolling him over, she felt hot tears come to her eyes. The mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes was gone; eyes that were now bloodshot replaced them. Bruises covered his face and body._

  
She ripped off the sleeve of his shirt and started to clean his face. He grabbed her hand and said in a hoarse voice, "Diana! You don't have time for this.  You know it's too late anyway." A small trickle of blood came out of the side of his mouth.  
  
"Shut up. You're fine. Let me—"  
  
"There's no time. We were set up. I thought so when we were at SD-4, but now—" shaking his head, he started coughing again. "Look, in the kitchen drawer there is an envelope--it's got six new passports for everyone with details for new covers. I intended for everyone to go their separate ways after this mission, but—" He winced in pain as he took a breath.  
  
"Shh, we're going to get out of here," she said, stroking his cheek, trying to keep her emotions in check.  
  
"No, you are. Take your ID and run. Make sure that you and that disk get back to the Agency."

  
"Patrick, I'm not leaving you here. **I don't leave people behind!" **

He grabbed her hand tighter as they heard garbage cans crash in the alley.  "Someone's coming," he rasped in a low voice. "As your superior, I'm ordering you to leave."

Looking at his face for one last time, she studied him.  Tried to remember every line.  Then nodding, she stood and raced into the kitchen.  She opened up kitchen drawers, pulling them out until the backs fell out of their holes.  Their contents went scattering onto the floor.  The envelope was in the third one.

Grabbing it up with shaking hands, she spilled the contents out onto the counter.  She winced as the smiling faces of the dead stared at her from passports and driver's licenses that would never be used.  She found hers attached to Patrick's.  They would have been traveling together.  Picking up her passport and ID papers, she shoved them into her top.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she gripped the warm metal of her gun.  She glanced over at the bodies of her friends and promised to them that she would make sure that their deaths had not been in vain.  She would make it out of the safe house, and she would get the intel to the CIA.

"Marta! Hey, Marta!"  Diego's voice brought her out of the past.

Diana stood up and squeezed her eyes shut, again trying to forget the memories. "Yes, Diego," she said, looking over at the other guard.

"Are you okay?"  He looked at her, letting her see his concern.  His doubt.  "I called you several times." He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine." She started to turn away from him.

"Are you sure? You seem distra—"

"Diego!  I'm fine, really.  What did you want?" She knew her voice was hard but she didn't care.

Diego pulled away from her.  "Have you done all preparations for tonight?"

"Preparations?  For what?"

"The party is tonight.  You haven't forgotten, have you?"

The week was almost over and no word from Michael yet._  I wonder if tonight is the nigh—_

"Marta!" Diego snapped. "Are the preparations complete for the party?"

"Yes. Yes. I still have to patrol the rest of the grounds, but everything else is in order," she lied.

She looked at him with what she knew was an unreadable face as his eyes narrowed at her. It was obvious that he didn't trust her, but there was something more behind his eyes. _I just can't put my finger on it._

As she started to walk away from him, she called over her shoulder, "I'm going to get back to work.  I'll be inside in thirty minutes."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  Diana Rochelle is mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language, and light violence.

Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: Thanks to Robin for the beta and the stalking. Thanks to Hill, Thorne, Diana, Amanda, Rach and others who quietly stalked me for this chapter. Again, thanks to Robin and Thorne, because if you guys hadn't sent security section after me, this would have NEVER gotten written. 

***

Sydney walked into the entrance hall of the estate.  Gray marble glowed in the soft light of the crystal chandeliers.  Gold fixtures lined the walls, and priceless works of art were tastefully shown.  Stiff-backed servants in perfectly pressed uniforms--carrying wine and hors d'oeuvres on silver platters--mingled among the guests.  No matter how many times Sydney visited wealthy estates during operations, the ornate decorations and surroundings always blew her away.

"Nice estate," she muttered into her comm link. 

Dixon chuckled on the other side of the room. "Looking at this place, I just realized that we aren't paid enough. Any sign of Rochelle, yet?"

"Not yet," she replied as her eyes scanned the crowd. Her father's warning played in her head. "Approach with caution."

"Acknowledged.  I'm going to check the back hallways with the other team, and we'll meet      back up front in ten minutes."

"Copy," she whispered back.

As she walked through the crowd, Sydney continued to look for Diana. There were both male and female guards milling around.  "She has many different looks and speaks in different dialects, so you need to be ready for anything," the Vaughn in her memory reminded her. She leaned against a column.  She plastered on her "ditzy cheerleader" smile and discreetly glanced around the room, noting the placement of every guard.

_Eenie, Meanie, Minie, Mo.  Sydney said to herself as she studied every guard.  All of them were dressed in standard black-tie attire and looking at every guest in an intimidating manner. Sydney doubted the guards without necks were her, but she had seen stranger disguises.  All of the women guards were of similar build.  __Which one was she?  Where was she?_

***

From across the room, hidden away by a large marble column, Diana studied a potential threat. The woman had a vague look on her face and her smile was bubbly, but Diana didn't trust that face.  The moment she had seen the redhead, the hairs on the back of her neck had lifted.

A few inquiries had revealed that the woman was supposed to be Angelica Cateris, the spoiled daughter of some high-society Frenchman, and sometime art dealer.  However, Diana was used to disguises.  She had played so many roles in her life that she could smell those like herself.  Angelica Cateris was not who she claimed to be.

Watching her, she had noticed her playing with her ear too much.  An earpiece.  Now, Diana needed to find out who this woman was, who she worked for, and who was on the other side of that comm link.

She glanced around the room but did not see anyone who made her instincts even whimper.  He--or she--must be somewhere else looking for her.  She might not know for sure where Angelica was from, or who she worked for, but Diana did know Angelica's assignment--her.

Pulling down on her black sheath dress, Diana took a deep breath and started strolling over to where her hunter--and her prey--waited.  

***

Sydney looked at her watch; she only had five minutes before meeting Dixon. _Dammit, I wonder if the intel was wrong.  What if she's already left?  She refused to think about the possibility that someone else had gotten to her first.  Or what Vaughn would feel about her failing him._

"Usted sabe si usted realmente no quisiera que cualquier persona le notara, usted no debe jugar con su conexión del comm como eso."  (_You know if you really don't want anyone notice you, you shouldn't play with your comm link like that.)  _

Sydney spun around, and looked into a pair of startling green eyes. "No sé de lo que usted está hablando." (_I don't know what you are talking about.) _

Diana leaned closer and whispered, "Oh, but I think you do." Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Who sent you?"

Sydney looked around nervously. There was no sign of the Dixon or the other SD-6 team, yet.  "Vaugh—Michael sent me." 

Diana's eyes widened in surprise. "Michael? How do you know Michael?"

"We work together," Sydney admitted.

Suspicion filled the narrow eyes studying her.  "You're CIA."

Sydney looked around again.  "Yes, I am," she whispered.

"No," Diana said as she shook her head.  "You're too nervous about someone hearing you.  I don't believe you."

"I do," Sydney said between gritted teeth.  She didn't have time for this, even though she understood Diana's doubts.  "It's just--" She glanced over her shoulder again and made a decision.  One that could get her killed.  She could only hope that Vaughn was right.  "I'm a double agent in SD-6.  I'm here tonight because they've been chosen by the Alliance to take care of you.  Vaughn's my handler; he sent me to give you these instructions for extraction."

Before Sydney could pass her the envelope, one of the guards walked up and asked Diana if everything was okay.  Smiling, Diana answered quickly in Spanish.  When promoted by Diana, Sydney agreed that everything was okay.  The man with no neck managed to nod his head somehow and walk away.

"Why should I believe you?"  Diana demanded as she took the envelope and hid it away in secret pocket in her dress.

Sydney struggled to come up with something to make this woman believe.  The only thing she could think about was Vaughn in that warehouse, showing her pictures and his concern.  "Vaughn's father was CIA, killed in action when Vaughn was eight years old."  Sydney knew that reciting straight facts--something they could read in a report--wouldn't help.  "He was 'admonished' not to be conspicuously emotional at his father's funeral.  When Vaughn worries, he runs his hand through his hair.  His forehead wrinkles when he's concerned.  And sometimes he seems to have these flashes of insight that are amazing."

"He still does that?"

Sydney saw some tension from Diana's shoulders, but she was certain that the other woman trusted her completely.  "Yes, he does."

Diana opened the back of the walkie-talkie she was holding, and took out a computer disk.  She studied the computer disk for several moments before she handed it to Sydney.  " A lot of people died for this disk.  Make sure that you get this back to the CIA."

Sydney heard Dixon speaking in her earpiece.  "I will," she promised, understanding.  "But you've got to go.  They're coming."

Diana nodded and began to walk away.  Sydney met with Dixon and asked if they had found her.  She spotted Diana studying her from across the room, but neither Dixon nor the other team noticed her before she slipped from the room.

****

_I can't believe it! I'm going home! Diana walked quickly through her crowd, careful not to bring attention to herself. She had noticed Diego leaving the party earlier, and that was a concern since she had no idea where he was.  __As long as I can make it out of here unnoticed, I should be fine. _

As she reached her room, she took off her blonde wig and let her dark hair fall to her shoulders.  Closing the door behind her, she walked over to her mirror and took out her contacts. When she looked up at the mirror again, her hazel eyes were blinking back at her.  Grabbing her black pants and top from her bed, she quickly changed out of her dress, and placed the envelope in her bag.  She slipped a small knife into a sheath in her wristband. Picking up her bag, she started to walk out the door.

"Diego!" she gasped as she opened the door, dropping her bag to the floor.  He stood there with his gun trained at her head, but it was the grin on his face that made her want to shiver.   

***

"Sydney, have you spotted Rochelle?" Dixon asked as he walked over to her.

They had continued to mill about the party looking for Diana.  Sydney had suggested it in an effort to give Diana more time to escape.  She looked up at him and replied, "No, there was no sign of her.  Maybe she was learned of us coming, and she left."

Dixon looked through the crowd again. "Perhaps."  He pressed on his earpiece. "Copy that."

"We've got her," he told to Sydney as he motioned to the other agents in the crowd and started to walk through the crowd.

"Dixon! Wait a minute." She ran to catch up with him. "What's going on?"

"There is an SD-6 informant here.  He's the one that told us she was here in the first place.  Now, he's managed to capture her in her room."

"Why wasn't I told about this?"_ No, No, No._

"I only found out myself a few minutes ago," he said quietly as he continued through the ballroom.

***

"Diego, what are you doing?" Diana asked as he pushed her back into her room and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Put your hands up," he replied as he picked up her bag.  

Diana looked around the room, looking for a means of to escape.  "Marta Diaz, hmm?"  he taunted, never letting his aim waver. 

"That's right. I'm Marta Diaz," she said as she held her hands up, "I just like to change my hair color every now and then. You know, it's a woman's prerogative." She smiled at the weak joke.  

He looked her over with a satisfied look on his face.  "When I first heard about Rio, I was surprised that you got away from SD-4." 

A chill went through her body.  _How did he know about SD-4? "I—I don't know what you're talking about." She crossed her arms in front of her, laying each hand over her wrists.  She began to carefully push her fingers underneath the wristband. __I need to get out of here._

"I think you do, Diana. You are Diana Rochelle, right?" he asked, leering at her. She glared at him from her position near the bed. "No need to answer. I already know who you are," he continued. "SD-6 paid a pretty penny to get your exact location, and I was more than happy to oblige." He looked down at his watch and walked over to her. "They should be here momentarily; we should get comfortable."

"You son of a bitch," she mumbled. "They'll kill me."

"That's precisely the point, dear Diana," he responded, still leering at her. "You die, and I get paid for it.  It's a win-lose situation. You lose, of course."

"Of course," she replied mockingly. 

Diana studied his wrist._ It was shaking with the weight of the gun as if he didn't know how to handle it or her. __If I hit the right nerve in his wrist, he'll drop the gun. _

She pulled the knife out slowly from her wristband.  "Diego, if you let me go, I can pay you more. I work for the CIA. They'll pay you well for helping me escape." She had dealt with his type before. People who put monetary value on lives were very easy to manipulate, especially when offered more money.

"Please, Diego," she pleaded. 

He walked over to her and ran his stubby hand across her collarbone. He smelled like bad liquor and sweat. She wanted to throw up. "I can think of plenty of ways that you can pay me," he said getting much closer than she anticipated.  He cupped her breast and leaned in to kiss her.

She pulled out her knife and stabbed him in his arm.  Dropping her knife to the floor, she hit him with a right hook. Warm blood splattered across her shirt. "Bitch!" he shouted as he fell to the floor, dropping his gun. 

"Diego, dear Diego. You should've taken my offer--at least you'd still have use of your arm."

She bent over, picked up his gun, and aimed it at his head. "Do you realize that I could kill you and not feel any remorse?" She fired a shot, intentionally missing his head by an inch.

He started coughing, "You crazy bitch!" She closed her eyes and fired again, this time hitting him in the leg. She looked at him again and smiled. "Awh. You're still here, Diego."

"Tell you what?" She put the gun in her belt loop and bent down next to him.  "I'll let you live, but you have to give your friends with SD-6 a message."

She picked up her knife and traced his jawbone. "Do we have an understanding?"  He glared at her from his prone position.  She pressed the knife harder into his jawbone, pricking his skin. He started to writhe from the pain.

"Let's try this again, Diego.  Do we have an understanding?" He nodded profusely.  "Good.  It's a simple message really. Just tell them that I'll be waiting for them." She punched him again, knocking him unconscious. She searched him and found a set of keys. "Thanks, Diego," she mumbled.

She picked up her bag and walked over to the door quietly.  Looking out both ways, she raced down the hallway towards the garage.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine. Marie and Brendan Devlin are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: Special thanks to the AIM gang, Robin for the fantastic beta, and Thorne for telling me that you like what I write, that means a lot. 

****

"What is it with you and self-destructive women?" Weiss asked as he came into Vaughn's office and sat down.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know any self-destructive women," he responded, never taking his eyes from the open file on his desk.

He held up two fingers. "Sydney Bristow for one, and there's the little matter of Diana Rochelle."

"Diana's not self-destructive and neither is Sydney," he replied, still reading the file in front of him, feigning non-interest.

"You may be right," Weiss agreed, leaning back in the chair. "Did I mention that someone is about to be debriefed right now? And it's not Sydney. "

"Oh? Who is?" He felt his heart skip a few beats. He had heard that Diana had received the information from Sydney, and she was supposed to be at a safe house in LA. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see her again.

"Diana," Weiss said with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"She's here? Is she okay?" Vaughn asked, finally taking his eyes from his paperwork.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's in the main conference room waiting on Devlin and someone else."

Vaughn looked at Weiss; then looked at his office door. Leaving to go see her, to check on her would leave him open to ridicule from Weiss. The same ridicule he received every time Sydney was in the building. He looked at Weiss again, and he could see the small smile forming.

"If you want to go see her, I don't think she'd mind," Weiss started. "Just be sure to be out of there before Devlin arrives."

Vaughn was already walking out the door.

****

He found Diana pacing inside the conference room. She was wearing a simple black dress, and her hair was pulled up in a French braid. In her hand was a Styrofoam cup. Inside it was probably the standard government-issue coffee: bland and lukewarm. He saw her wince as she took a sip.

When he shut the door behind him, she stopped by the window. "I wondered if you'd come." He knew she hadn't seen him, but he remembered what she had once told him. _I always know when you step into the room: Your scent always gives you away. _She took a sip of her coffee, and this time she managed not to wince from the taste. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he told her as he walked farther into the room.

"You have every right not to want to see me, you know that, right?" she asked, with her back still turned to him.

"I know that but I couldn't stay away," he replied as he walked across the room and leaned on the wall next to her. 

"You could have told me to go to hell when I called, Michael," she said, continuing to look out the window. He wished she would look at him, let him see her eyes.

"I know but you needed me--I mean you needed help, and I was in a position to offer it," Vaughn said quietly. As he watched her, a strand of hair came down; he fought the urge to move the hair out of her face. 

"Thank you," she replied, finally facing him. She reached up and touched the nape of his neck. "You've cut your hair," she smiled at him, "I like it."

He resisted the blush that was threatening to come up on his face. "Thanks," he said, not taking his eyes off of her. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute as he looked at her. She was still as beautiful as she had been five years ago. Her dark hair had gotten longer, and her eyes, while still bright, seemed to hold something behind them. 

"I'm sorry about what happened in Barcelona, Diana," Vaughn said. He watched her eyes start to tear up, and no longer did she look like the woman in those surveillance photos, or the woman whose case file he had stayed up the night before reading. She looked like the same Diana from five years ago, the one who cried at end of Bambi. 

"I know that it's my fault, Michael. I'm the reason that they're dead. If I hadn't urged them to go in against their instincts, we would have never attempted that operation. All the signs were there: it took us a matter of minutes to get into SD-4's air duct system, and I should have saw it coming," she said softly.

"There was no way for you to have known that there would be trouble. There wasn't, Diana," he said leaning closer to her, a reminder of the days when they used to talk after their cases. He could see a small shudder go through her body as he said this. She was scared, that was something he--and everyone else--had not often seen. He wanted to take her into his arms to shield her from all that had happened in Barcelona and in Rio. 

"That was part of my job, Michael. I was the one who was to make sure that there would be no trouble, and I failed," she said bitterly, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry. You've already done so much, and now I'm laying more of this on you."

He ran his hand through his hair, and shook his head. "You don't ever have to worry about that, Diana. I'm here as long as you need me."

"Are you, Michael? I don't want to suck you into this mess. It's too much for me to ask you to deal with." She looked at him with sad eyes that spoke more to him than anything else she could say. She needed him, and he was going to be there for her. 

He placed a finger on her lips, and said quietly, "I'll decide when I've had enough, okay?"

"Michael, I—". 

"Excuse me, Agent Vaughn," a clerk said, poking his head inside the room. "You told me to let you know when Mr. Devlin was on his way, and—"

Devlin walked in behind the clerk. "I'm already here. Hello, Diana."

"Ben." Taking her eyes away from him, she walked over to her old supervisor. She had always been much more relaxed around Devlin than Vaughn had. While he no longer was tongue-tied or nervous, he still didn't feel as comfortable as she did. "How have you and your wife been? How's Brendan?"

Vaughn looked at Devlin as he smiled at Diana. He hadn't seen him this relaxed in a few months. She had that effect on people. "Brendan is doing well, he's starting at UCLA this fall. Marie and I are doing fine."

"That's fantastic," she replied smiling and crossing her arms. "Do you mind telling me why I'm here? I've already given a full report."

"I've read your report. There are a few things that we need to discuss. We'll begin as soon as the agent assigned to your case arrives. Please have a seat." He gestured towards the seat across from him.

"Sir, I can leave if you want," Vaughn said as he started towards the door.

"Actually, Agent Vaughn, this also involves you since you were the one that Agent Rochelle contacted and arranged for her extraction. So, please, I need you to have a seat as well."

Diana and Vaughn looked at each other and sat down. Vaughn on one side of the table, and Diana across from Devlin.

__

What is going on? The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, telling him that something wasn't right with this scenario.Vaughn looked at his watch, and glanced over Diana, willing her to make eye contact. 

"I'm sorry that I'm late. I was still in a meeting when you left the message for me, sir," a voice said as the door to the conference room opened.

"It's all right. We were just getting settled," Devlin said, pulling some files out of his briefcase.

Vaughn stood up as Haladki walked into the conference room. "Sir, what is he doing here? Agent Rochelle isn't any of his concern."

"Agent Vaughn, Haladki is the agent assigned to her case. He noticed some items that were unclear in her report, so that's why this meeting was called."

He looked over at Diana with a worried glance, and she met his gaze with one of her own. _Diana's isn't one not to give an accurate report._ She nodded to him as if to say, 'I'll be fine'. He sat down, defeated, and glared at Haladki, who was taking a seat next to Devlin. Haladki pulled out a tape recorder and placed it in front of Diana. "If you don't mind, I'd like to tape this conversation."

"I have nothing to hide," she said quietly, looking directly at Haladki.

"Good." He pressed record on the machine. "For the record, could you state your full name and your current place of residence?"

"Diana Elizabeth Rochelle. My file lists my place of residence New Orleans, but I haven't spent many nights there in the last five years. I was born and raised there. " 

"Diana--may I call you Diana?" Vaughn managed to hold back the angry retort that was fighting to get out. The way that Haladki was talking to Diana sounded like a man trying to pick up a woman in a bar. There were still too many men in the Agency who still had a sexist attitude towards their female co-workers. He had watched Diana fight those attitudes over and over when they worked together. Her fighting spirit had been what first attracted him to her. 

As Sydney's handler, he had watched her struggle against the same attitudes. Lambert had been a prime example. He had only seen the body, not the incredible agent Sydney was. 

"No, you may not. Agent Rochelle is fine," she said with an edge to her voice. She had always been able to take care of herself. Vaughn didn't bother to cover the smirk on his face. _He doesn't know what he's getting himself into._

Haladki sat up straight and started acting like the professional that he wasn't. "Okay, Agent Rochelle, would you mind telling us what happened in Barcelona with your team?"

"I've already explained in my report what happened." Her voice still held the same sharpness. Vaughn noticed how rigid she was sitting and wondered why she was acting that way now. Haladki was asking a legitimate question.

"In your report you stated that--" he flipped through some pages "--'The men just appeared out of nowhere.' Wasn't it your job, _Agent_ Rochelle, to verify that everything was clear? " 

"Yes, it was. That was part of my job," she said flatly. 

"Can you explain how your team was ambushed?" Haladki asked with a sneer in his voice.

Vaughn watched as Diana's shoulders tensed. "As I've noted in my report, Agent Haladki, I'm not sure how we were ambushed. When we came out the air duct, there they were. That's all I have to say about that."

Devlin looked down at the file in his lap and nodded for Haladki to continue. "Moving on—why didn't you contact the CIA through the proper channels?"

Diana cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you new here?"

Vaughn watched Haladki's shoulders tense. Diana had started to intimidate him. "I did contact the CIA, but I was told that there wouldn't be any help coming officially."

"Is that why you contacted Mr. Vaughn? For help?" 

"Yes, it was," she responded.

"Didn't you think that it was brash of you to contact him for help, given your past history." 

Diana looked over at Vaughn, and shook her head. "Our past had little to do with why I contacted him. He's a good man, he would never leave a fellow agent out in the field without trying his best to help them."

"What about Patrick Williams?" Vaughn winced when he heard Haladki say that name.

"As I also wrote in my report, Patrick Williams, who was the team leader, also died in Barcelona."

"Interesting," he replied as he looked through more paper work. "Agent Rochelle, are you aware that Mr. Williams arranged for you two to travel together after Barcelona?"

"That was standard operating procedure after an operation. The team always traveled in teams of two. I would travel with Patrick, Marisa with Daniel, and so on," she said with a slight crack in her voice. Haladki and Devlin didn't hear it, but he did. Vaughn looked at her, confused. _She's hiding something._

"That's not what your file shows," Haldaki said looking at her through narrowed eyes.

Diana leaned forward and put her palms flat on the table. "And you know as well as I do that the file on my team is vague at best. We don't give a lot of detail. It's dangerous--to us and to the Agency. And if you ever had to face anything more dangerous than a paper cut, you might understand that fact, Agent Haladki." She took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. "I'm the only surviving member of that team, and I'm telling you that the team usually broke up after an operation. Your file won't show that."

Haladki slid some pictures to Diana. "Do you mind explaining what happened when SD-4 came after you?"

"I ran, which is something that I normally don't do, but the intel was important, and if I had been caught, I wouldn't be here right now."

"You _were_ caught, Agent Rochelle." Vaughn really wanted to hit Haladki for that comment.

"The correct term is _cornered_, Mr. Haladki. I was never caught," she said confidently, crossing her arms in front of her.

"As I looked at these pictures last night, Agent Rochelle, I had to ask myself. Were all of these injuries that you inflicted necessary for you to get away?" Haladki asked.

"Mr. Haladki, have you ever been in the field? I'm not talking about a strawberry field or a cornfield. Have you ever seen field action?'

Vaughn covered his mouth to hide the grin on his face. He knew that Haladki hated the fact that he had never been anything more than a pencil pusher, and he loved the fact that Diana had also picked up on it. "I'm not sure my record is relevant, Ms. Rochelle."

"I'm going to take that response as a resounding 'No'," she said. "When you have spent as much time in the field as my team did, and you've seen the things that we had seen, then you can ask me if I thought my actions in Rio were necessary. Is that clear enough for you?" She stood up and walked over to the window. Vaughn resisted the urge to follow her. And the urge to slam Haladki against the wall.

Devlin watched her before clearing his throat. "I think we've heard enough," he said as he stood up. "Diana, there will be some agents here to take you back to the safe house. It was good seeing you." He walked over and patted her shoulder. He left the room with a reluctant Haladki following right behind him.

Vaughn watched her for a few minutes. He thought about what the hairs on the back of his neck were telling him. She was hiding something. "So are you going to tell me what's really going on, or are you going to continue to feed me bullshit?"


	6. Chapter 6

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine. Marie and Brendan Devlin are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: Special thanks to the AIM gang, Robin for the fantastic beta, and Thorne for telling me that you like what I write, that means a lot. 

***

Diana averted her eyes from Vaughn.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  

He walked over and touched her arm.  "Devlin and Haladki may not have picked up on it, but I did.  Your voice changed when he mentioned Patrick."

Looking up into his eyes, she saw the pain that her actions caused all those years ago, and the unspoken question about a relationship she and Patrick never had.  "Patrick and I were never together like that.  He was my friend and mentor. That's all." She felt his body relax as he let a slow breath leave his body.  

"Then tell me what's going on?  It's not like you not to give a full report, and while I enjoyed you ripping into Haladki, he did ask some worthwhile questions. What happened in Barcelona?"

"It's hard for me to explain." She sighed, wishing she could find the words to explain the gut feeling she was having.  "When I was in training, I was taught to pay attention to everything, to notice the slightest difference in anything—that's where the answer laid.  When I arrived there, the door was already open."  Struggling to breathe, she reminded herself that she was a professional, and there was only the hint of catch in her voice when she said, "And I found them dead.  Hands tied behind them, gunshots to the head. Eight highly trained agents. I don't understand it."  She shook her head.  "The whole area seemed surreal.  Then, Patrick came in, the only one had been beaten.  Daniel, Marisa, all the others' deaths had been quick.  Patrick was the only one who suffered," she said, turning to face him.

"He was the team leader. Maybe SD-4 thought he had the disk," he offered.

"No." She shook her head. "That's not it.  There was something off about that whole thing, and I can't figure it out.  I didn't tell Haladki because, frankly, I don't understand it myself, and he's a dick. That's the truth."

A small smirk played on his lips, "That Haladki's a dick? Or that you don't understand what happened?"

She chuckled. "Both. I just wish I could figure out what struck me as odd about the whole thing. I feel like it's looking me right in my face.  Only I can't see it."  She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.  She could feel him leaning closer. He didn't have to say a word; his presence was enough. "Michael," she murmured.  

"Yes?"

She opened her eyes and found herself looking into his green eyes.  She wanted to tell him how many times she had regretted leaving, but instead she just smiled weakly at him.  "What am I going to do about this?  The CIA is going to want answers, and I have none to offer them."

"Don't worry about that right now. You've been through hell these last few days.  You need to rest, get your head back on straight." He rubbed her cheek. "It's good to see you. I mean that."

She resisted the urge to tilt her head to fit the palm of his hand. She had always responded that way before, which had always led to a kiss, which she knew couldn't, shouldn't, happen now.  

"It's good to see you, too," she said quietly. _Hug him, the small voice in her head whispered. _

She cleared her throat and moved away from him.  "There should be some agents here soon to take me back to the safe house. I'll contact Devlin when I figure out what's going on."  She walked over to the table and grabbed her jacket.

"Diana, wait a minute," Vaughn said. "Stay with me."

She looked at him. "That's not exactly a good idea."

"What would be a better place?  You concentrate better without distraction.  At my house there's just Donovan, and there isn't someone constantly watching you through a two-way mirror.  It's private, and you'll be safe there."

"I wouldn't be safe with the Agency?" she asked in a teasing voice.

Diana watched Vaughn as he tried to tell her why he wanted her to stay at his house. He looked down at his hands nervously, and a hint of a blush marked his cheeks. "That's not what I'm saying. It's just that—"

The door opened behind him, and Weiss poked in his head. "Vaughn, we just received a message from Sydney. She wants to discuss what happened in Chile."

Vaughn looked at Diana and said, "I have to go and take care of this."

Diana nodded.  "You're her handler; she told me." 

Vaughn looked startled, but he didn't say anything else about Sydney.  He only asked, "Will you think about it at least?"

"Yes, I'll think about it."

Vaughn studied her again. "Good.  I'll see you later."

****

"Here's the disk that SD-6 was after," Sydney said, handing it to Vaughn. 

He placed it inside his jacket pocket. "Thank you, Sydney. I know that helping Diana wasn't easy; it put the both of you in danger.  It meant a lot to me that you were able to do it."

"You're welcome, Vaughn," she said as she leaned against the fence.

"Where there any problems in Chile? Getting her the extraction information?" Vaughn hated to admit how out of the loop he was.  Devlin had kept Diana's report away from him, and Sydney had not yet been debriefed.  Jack had told them that Sloane had sent Sydney and Dixon on a wild goose chase looking for Diana. 

Sydney bit her lip. "She didn't trust me initially, which is to be expected, and there was also an informant within the estate's employees."

"An informant?" Vaughn asked, leaning forward. "What happened?"

"Someone on the estate had heard we were looking for her, and he was willing to give her up for a price. After I passed her the information, I told Dixon that we couldn't find her, but then he told me that someone had already located her and was waiting on us to come to pick her up."

He sat back and motioned for Sydney to continue. "By the time we arrived at her room, she was gone. The informant had been injured: his arm had been cut badly, and he was unconscious.  When he came to, he said that she had message for SD-6: she'd be waiting."  Vaughn sighed.  That sounded like Diana.  Taunt the enemy.   "Sloane was furious that she had gotten away.  He seemed to be more upset about her than about the missing intel.  He said that she needs to be dealt with and that he had sent Security Section out to look for her.  If you talk to her, Vaughn, tell her to be careful."

"I've already talked to her," he replied, straightening out his tie. "And I'll be sure to relay what you've just told me the next time I see her."

Her eyebrow raised.  "You'll be seeing her again?  The CIA hasn't set her up with a new identity, yet?"  

Vaughn felt himself becoming flustered. He wondered why.  "The CIA has some questions for her about what happened in Barcelona. Besides Diana is a lot like you; she wants to take care of herself.  She's also stated that there was something wrong with how she found the team, and she's trying to figure it out."

"Oh," Sydney said as she stood up to leave the cage.

"What?" he asked walking over to open the gate for her.

"Nothing.  It just seems odd having to share your focus with someone else," she teased.  He thought he heard a note of jealousy in her voice.  Then, he asked himself if he _wanted to hear jealousy. _

"She's just someone who needs help, and I'm trying to be there for her," he said defensively.

"I'm not questioning your methods, Vaughn," she replied, averting her eyes.  "I just want you to be careful."  

"Careful about what?  She's not up to anything," he said as she walked out the cage in front of him.

Sydney turned to face him and said, "Remember that SD-6 is still after her.  Be careful, Vaughn." She turned on her heels and left.

*****

"So, how have you been?" Diana asked Weiss as they walked down to the garage.

 "I've been doing good. Found the love of my life."

"Again?  Eric, the last time we saw each other you had found the love of your life. What was her name?  Bunny? Wasn't she an exotic dancer?" Diana asked, smiling.

"Her name was Barbara and she was a showgirl in Vegas.  She was doing that to get through grad school!" he exclaimed smiling broadly as they walked through the garage.

"Right," she said. "Grad school. So, what's the new love of your life's name?  Trixie?"

He chuckled softly, "No, her name is Angie, and she's a paralegal downtown.  She's amazing. She had been trying to fix Michael up with one of her friends before you contacted him"

"He should still let her fix him up," Diana said waving at the two agents waiting by the SUV to take her to the safe house.

"No, I don't think he'd go for that right now," Weiss replied, stopping a few feet before the SUV.  

"What are you talking about, Eric?" Diana asked, turning to face him. 

"He's happy that you're here, Diana," he said without the trademark wit that she had become used to hearing when talking with him.

Her heart stopped. She had picked up on the way Vaughn had looked at her, but she had hoped it was her imagination. "I'm not exactly here on great terms.  I'm on the run."

Weiss shook his head. "It doesn't matter; you're here. You could have come in with the entire Alliance on your ass, and he'd still be happy to see you."

"I should be the last person he'd want to see, Eric, and you know that.  How I left—," she sighed, "I wouldn't want to see me."

He took her hands in his and said, "He wanted to see you, trust me.  I've been his friend for years. When he told me that you had been in contact with him--he was barely containing himself.  He's never been subtle, you know that."

"Yes, I do remember," she said. It was one of the many things that she had loved about him. How he wore his heart on his sleeve, even when he knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do. "He asked me to stay with him while I figure this whole thing out."

Weiss looked at her with surprise. " Are you going to?"

"I don't think it's a good idea, Eric. It might be easier for SD-6 to find me there.  Not to mention Devlin wouldn't approve," she said.  She looked at Weiss, who was smiling at her. "What's so amusing?"

"You're making excuses because you, Diana Rochelle, are afraid.  Just go." He motioned for one of the agents to come over.  "Could you take Agent Rochelle to Vaughn's house and stay there until he arrives?"  He handed the man a set of keys on a key ring, telling him which key to use for which lock.

"Eric!" Diana protested. "You're crazy! There is no way that I'm going over there."

"There really isn't much you could do, Agent Rochelle.  You're going to Vaughn's house." He gently pushed her towards the SUV.  "And for the record, Diana, you aren't subtle either."

***

"Are you sure that you'll be okay here?" the agent asked as he walked through the backdoor of Vaughn's house

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she replied, following him in and placing her bag on the floor.  She took in the surroundings as she looked around.  His hockey equipment was sitting by the door. _Good to know he still plays.  There was also a dog dish by the table in the kitchen nook.  She smiled as she thought of the dog that she and Michael had bought together. _

"If you need anything, we'll be outside," the dark haired man said, walking back outside. She picked up her bag and went into the living room.  Lining the walls were pictures from his past.  Him and his mother in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and a picture of Weiss and Vaughn at Lake Tahoe.  

She placed her bag on the floor next to the couch and continued her self-tour of his house. The living room that had once been filled with souvenirs from their trips together--the pictures of the Aztec temple, the conch shells from the Caribbean were gone.  It was now devoid of the warmth that once had welcomed her after a hard day after work.  There were files that covered the mosaic tile on the coffee table. There was a time that he would never bring work home.  The answering machine used to always beep, full of messages.  Now a red zero stared at her. 

The indention in the wall was still there, left there when she and Vaughn had tried to move the refrigerator that had decided to break down on the hottest day in July.  She stopped and ran her hand over the arch in the hallway.  They had been leaning against it, kissing, the first time he told her that he loved her. All the memories of their time together started to crash down on her.  

"Shit," she said to no one in particular. "You've really messed this up, Rochelle."  She stopped at his partially closed bedroom door. Part of her wanted to go in, to explore the intimate part of Vaughn's life but the other part of her was afraid to go in—scared of what other memories would come back to her.

Taking in a deep breath, she reached over and pushed the door open.  "Donnie!" she exclaimed as she walked into Vaughn's room.  The dog that she and Vaughn had picked out five years earlier stood up from his corner of the room and started to wag his tail.  She couldn't help the instant smile that came to her face as she looked down at the dog.  "How are you, honey?"  

She looked around the bedroom. The tan on the walls that they had picked out five years before had been replaced by a richer navy blue color. The hard wood floor was now polished and everything she had had a hand in picking out was now gone.  The old metal bed frame--found at a garage sale--had been replaced by a sturdier mahogany frame.  

Walking over to the closet, she opened it.  She looked over his dark suits and oxford shirts.  _He always looked great in a blue oxford. She glanced at the shelves and a box caught her eye.  She reached up and pulled it down.  "Diana" was written across the top in bold letters._

She sat on the floor, near the bed, and Donovan walked over to sit next to her.  "Should we see what's in this box, Donnie?" she asked the dog, who responded by yawning, as if to say  "I don't care; you're going to open it anyway."

Opening the box, her eyes widened in surprise.  On top was a picture of her and Vaughn in Colorado attempting to ski. She laughed quietly as she remembered the ski "expert" trying to show her how to stop. _He's better on hockey skates. She dug deeper in the box, until her hand hit the bottom.  She felt around and touched a small box.  Confused, she pulled it out.  Opening it, she found inside an antique ring.  Tears stung her eyes as the memory of that ring came back to her._

"You should ask before you start searching through things," Vaughn said from the doorway.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine. 

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language and NC-17 for the smut

Classification: Action/Adventure, Drama, and a dash of Romance.

A/N: Extra special thanks to Robin for putting up with me. **If you do not want to read smut, stop reading when you reach the "***".  Some people may not want to read porn involving Vaughn and someone else, so you've been warned. Thanks.******

***

"You're the one that invited me, and you know that I like to snoop, Michael," she said as she stood up from her position on the floor.  

"I trusted you to behave yourself in my home, Diana," he said, still standing in the doorway.

"You were always too quick to trust," she replied with a grin on her face. She winced inside; that was a low blow.  She heard him draw a deep breath and saw a muscle twitch in his cheek.

She watched as he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.  He acted like it was difficult to even look at her, and she felt angry that he felt that way.  She understood it, but it still hurt.  She looked down at the ring in her hand.  "You kept this?"

He stared at the box in her hand for several heartbeats.  Finally, he walked into the bedroom and took it from her hand.  He placed it on the dresser, before shrugging out of his jacket.  "Yes, I kept it," he said, obviously struggling to keep his voice calm and controlled.  It was too controlled, too steady.  It sounded unnatural.

He hung his jacket on the doorknob.  "I kept it out for a year after you left, hoping you would come back, and after that, I couldn't get rid of it.  It was the first and only engagement ring I ever bought.  It was important to me_."_

Diana's shoulders stiffened.  "It was important to me, too."

Vaughn turned and looked at her.  His face showed--Contempt? Disbelief?  She didn't know which, but she knew it pissed her off.  Reminding herself that he had every right to be mad at her, she struggled to remain calm.  "You know why I left, Michael.  Things were strained between us," she said, trying to keep her voice low.

Shaking his head, Vaughn seemed to look right through her.  "Look.  Let's forget it.  It's the past.  I didn't invite you here so you could give me some bullshit to make yourself feel better."

Diana took a step back in surprise.  The Michael she remembered was the calm one, the easy going one.  He let things pass with an easy smile of acceptance.  "Bullshit?  Make myself feel better?  I don't know--"

"Yeah, you do, Diana."  Vaughn sighed.  He held out his hand.  "Look, you feel guilty that you left the way you did.  That's fine.  Deal with it.  You're here to figure out what happened in Barcelona.  I wanted to give you a quiet place to think.  Don't worry about the past.  I'm not."

She looked at him in disbelief and shook her head.  "I might feel bad about leaving you, Michael, but I sure as hell don't feel guilty.  I left for good reason."

He grunted.  "Of course you did."

She walked towards him, her fists pressed to her hips.  "Look, our cases just kept getting more dangerous.  You knew it; you even talked about us taking desk jobs because of it.  But, I wasn't ready for that , Michael, and I knew if I stayed in the field, you would stay, too.  The way things were going, I knew it was only a matter of time before something happened to you, too. I left to keep you from getting hurt."

"Right," Vaughn said.  "I know.  I mean, just knowing and caring about Diana Rochelle means that you are going to die, right?  Rambaldi himself said so." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Diana's eyebrow snapped up.  "Who?"

Vaughn shook his head.  "Nothing.  It's all bullshit anyway.  Why don't you just admit the truth, Diana?  You left because you, Diana "I fear nothing" Rochelle, were scared.  Scared of what you were feeling."

She knew she had to be looking like a fish, her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugging open, but she was stunned by his words.  She couldn't think of anything to say.  She never expected him to act this way.  This wasn't him.

He stared at her, and then turned to look at the mirror over the dresser.  He rolled up his sleeves.  "Diana, I understand about your parents.  I do," he said, frowning at her reflection.  "You know that I lost my dad when I was eight, so I know what that does to you.  But I never used that as an excuse to walk away from someone I cared about.  Hell," he muttered, running his hand through his hair.  "That's why I try so hard to protect the people I care about."

He turned to face her again, leaning back on the dresser.  "I would have gone to hell and back for you.  I would have helped you deal with your demons, if you had just let me."

Diana winced, stung by his words.  Michael had always respected her feelings about her family.  He had understood; he seldom talked about his father, either.  She had lost her parents when she was a teenager--killed in a house fire.  

She had gone from a loving home in the Lafayette parish in one of the many bayous of Louisiana, to staying with Aunt Louise in the city of New Orleans.  Dear old Louise had been a sometimes parlor worker on Bourbon Street who spent more time drinking and traipsing about the city than actually looking after Diana.  Remembering that time in her life was hard, and for him to bring it back up hurt even more.

Her fingernails tore into her palm, and her eyes flashed angrily.  "You sprung that marriage proposal on me!  What was I supposed to do?"

He started heading towards the door.  "Figure it out, Diana."  He stopped.  "I thought I had finally gotten past all of your defenses.  I thought you trusted me.  Instead, I took one step too close and you ran," he snapped. He spun around and stormed from the bedroom.

"I left to protect you!" she exclaimed, following him out to the living room.  

He stopped mid-stride.  She watched as every muscle on his back tensed.  He turned, and his eyes flashed at her as he hissed, "Protect me?  From being hurt?  Sorry, but you did a fucking lousy job."

He leaned forward and pressed further.  "You left to protect yourself, Diana.  You were scared.  You didn't care enough about _us to try and work things out.  You were too busy thinking about yourself and your pain to give a damn about protecting me.  We could have talked, taken our time.  I wasn't in any rush.  Instead, you turned to Patrick and joined his team.  So, excuse me, but I really don't want to hear that lie anymore."_

She suddenly felt numb inside.  She had never seen Michael like this before.  She resisted the urge to physically run away from the fight, because her dead friends needed her to stay here in L.A.  The CIA needed to decode the information, or their deaths would be in vain.  She would help break the code, and then she would return to the life she had before.  A false name on a passport with a false history memorized.  The pain she was feeling right now would disappear into the game.

"You're wrong!"  It was a struggle not to sound upset.  "I loved you.  I did care about us." Besides her parents, he was the only other person in the world she had ever loved.  "You know that," she whispered.

Shaking his head, Vaughn said, "Do I really, Diana?  You told me that you loved and that you wanted to marry me.  The next morning, I woke up to a note--a fucking _note--telling me that you were sorry.  The engagement ring I had just given you the night before was laying next to it."  He worked his jaw from side to side, obviously trying to relieve some of the tension.  "I had to go into work to find out that you had left with Patrick.  Weiss waited in the parking garage so he could tell me.  I don't know about you, Diana, but that's not love by any definition I know."_

Diana took a step back and held up her hands.  "You know what?  Eric is the one who told me this would be a good idea.  I should have listened to my instincts.  I appreciate your offer to help, and I realize that you might have felt obligated to help out an old partner but your obligation ends now."

She started to turn, but Vaughn's hand gripped her shoulder.  He pulled her around to look at him.  Not hard but forcefully.  "You are not going to walk away from me this time!"  He put his hands on her arms.  "Would you just stop running for once?"

Suddenly, she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers.  She told herself to push him away, to fight him, but instead, she grabbed his head and began kissing him back with a passion she had forgotten she could feel.

*******

Feeling Diana respond, Vaughn ordered himself to not think about why this was a bad idea.  He pushed her against the wall and slammed his body against hers.  He used his lips to punish her, and she responded in kind.  The guttural groan she made in the back of her throat made the blood leave his head and flood towards the lower part of his body.  He groaned when she pressed her groin into his.

"Diana," he murmured as his tongue ravished her throat.  His hand found her breast and squeezed.  His fingers tormented her nipple.  She didn't resist him; instead, she continued to rub against him, causing his cock to grow rock hard.

She wrapped a stocking leg around him and pulled him closer.  He knew what she was doing; she had always been the aggressive one in the bedroom.  He had always let her be, had always enjoyed her forcefulness.  But he wasn't the same man now, and he wanted to be charge.

He grabbed her arms and pressed them above her head.  She stared at him with shock.  She gasped when she saw the look in his eyes, and then she grinned and licked her lips.  He groaned and pressed his lips back against hers.

Still holding her hands above her head, he reached behind her and tugged at the zipper on her dress.  He heard the cloth make a small ripping sound as he yanked at it.  Pulling her away from the wall, he lowered her arms and pulled the dress off of her.  It fell into a heap at her feet.

She was beautiful.  Her body was still muscular and perfect.  Just as it had been--

No.  He wasn't going to think about the past, because if he did, he would remember why he shouldn't be doing this, and he so wanted to be doing this.

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to him.  As they kissed, they fell down on the couch.  He heard a button hit the floor when she began yanking on his shirt.  Her eager hands pulled at his belt.  She grunted when it refused to open up for her.

His lips moved to her nipples as his hands moved down to help her.  They both sighed in relief when it fell open and allowed Diana access to his pants.  She didn't bother to unbutton them; instead she forced her hand down the front and grabbed hold of him.  He groaned and sucked harder on her nipple.  She pressed her lower body up against him to relieve some of her own ache.

His tongue trailed down the front of her stomach.  She jerked when his mouth began to caress her inner lips.  She gasped in surprise and moaned as his tongue began to devour her.  His tongue was hard and demanding.

She moaned as she grabbed his hair with her hand.  Her fingers clawed at the leather of the couch.  Grinning, he sat up.  He stared at her for only a second before sliding all the way into her.  Her hands worked their way beneath his opened shirt and scratched his back.  He responded by pushing into her harder. 

Her legs wrapped around him, and he pulled her hips closer to him.  Their groans filled the air.

"Michael," she moaned as she threw her head back.  The last bit of her hair fell free from her braid; his fingers grasped it.  Her back arched, begging him to join her in her pleasure.  But he wouldn't let her decide the pace of this encounter.  He was the one in control; he continued to push into her until he brought her to her second orgasm.

Then, he crushed her lips beneath his.

Every muscle in his body suddenly relaxed.  He lay on top of her, sweating, gasping for breath.  When he regained control of his breathing, he pushed himself up on his hands and looked at her.  The expression on her face didn't bring him any pleasure.  "Diana?"  He silently begged for her to say that she was okay as he brushed her hair out of her face.

"I'm sorry," she said.  She sat up, forcing him to do the same.  She got off the couch and picked up her dress.

She continued to walk away from him as he said, "Diana, wait a sec--"

He stopped talking when he heard the click of the bathroom door.  Sighing, he sank back on the couch and listened to the sound of the shower running.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine. 

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language 

A/N: Thank you to Robin for your wonderful help. 

******

Diana sat back in the patio chair and sighed.  _This is not what I expected to happen. Sleeping with Michael hadn't been in the game plan, at least not the way it had happened.  After her shower, she had come out and found that he had gone into his bedroom and shut the door.  She almost knocked on his door to tell him why she was sorry, but had decided against it.  _

Donovan had followed her out the patio, and now lay by her feet. "Well, Donnie," she said, taking a sip of her beer. "It looks like it's just you and me.  You're great company though." The dog rolled over and looked up at her. Looking up at the night sky sent a chill through her body, but it was relaxing.  

"You're going to catch a cold out here," a voice said behind her.  

Startled, she turned around to face a pair of green eyes.  "Oh, hey, Michael, I didn't hear you coming," she said before turning back around to look back in the pitch-black yard.  

She could smell his scent as he sat in the chair next to her.  It was a combination of a shower and good old-fashioned soap.  He had always said that those European colognes were too flowery for him.

"Diana," he said with a sigh. "We need to talk about what happened earlier."

_Always to the point as usual, Michael. "What's to talk about? We had sex when we both know that it shouldn't have happened."_

"Why? I mean it wasn't like you held me down and had your way with me," he said quietly. "_Although, there have been times that you had and I never complained." He chuckled._

Diana shook her head and smiled slightly at the memories.  "That was different, Michael. We were together then, and in love. What happened earlier shouldn't have happened. Not like that."

"Is that why you apologized?" He asked, taking a sip of her beer.  Even in the low light from the house, she could see him looking at her intensely.

"I apologized for it happening the way it did, Michael. I'm not back forty-eight hours yet, and we're already ripping clothes off each other," she said, feeling heat come to her cheeks.

"I've already told you that it's okay. I wanted to, Diana. Trust me." He pulled her chair closer to him.

A small gasp of surprise left her lips.  "Michael, stop," she said, giggling in spite of the situation.

"Listen to me, will you?" He said as he put his hands to her head.  He gently pulled her face towards his. "Seeing you again has brought back a lot of memories. Some of them bad, but most of them were very good. I meant what I said back at the office; it _is good to see you again."_

Diana could feel tears coming to her eyes. "Do you know how much over the past five years that I wanted to come back? To tell you how stupid I was to leave the way I did?"

"Tell me now," he said quietly.

"You make it sound so easy, Michael. I just can't say 'I'm sorry' and what about our argument?" 'It _was easy,' a small voice said in her head. __'Just tell him how you feel.' She knew he was right; she had been scared about where their relationship was going. As she looked at him, she realized what she had lost._

"Our argument needed to happen, Diana. I mean, it's been five years; there was no way that we could have been around each other and not talked about what happened.  Try apologizing. I hear that a lot of people are doing it," he said with a slight smile.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what happened. I really am. I was stupid, and I'm just so sorry, Michael." She sniffed loudly.  _Damn emotions._

He put his hand on the back of her neck. "Thank you for saying that, Diana," he whispered.

"Are we good now?" she asked him, catching her breath when he brushed her hair out of her face.

"We are more than good," he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her.

****

Vaughn looked down at the mess of dark hair that was lying on his chest.  He had watched her for the past few hours, careful not to wake her. He inhaled deeply. _I could get used to this. He looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. __8:00 am. One more hour, and he had to go back to reality._

"Diana," he said.  She mumbled in her sleep. "Diana," he said again, nudging her side. "Come on, Diana. I have to get to work."

"I know you do, Michael, but I don't want you to go," she said with clarity.

He looked down at her. "How long have you been awake?"

"For a few hours," she said, sitting up to look at him. "I was listening to your heartbeat. It calmed me down."

"Didn't you sleep well?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder. They had made love several times last night. Each time more passionate than before.

"I slept fine last night, but I had a dream. About Barcelona."

He swung his legs out of bed as he sat up. "Barcelona? What about it?"

"Nothing that I can put my finger on, but I was thinking about the aliases that Patrick got for the team."  Vaughn looked at her hearing the slight note of sadness in her voice.

"You told me that it was usual procedure for that to happen."

"And it was, Michael, but Patrick and I NEVER traveled together. It just wasn't practical. When we were paired off, there was always a balance between us," she explained, holding her hands in front of her.  "If one person was better with weapons, and the other was good with languages. They were paired off. Patrick and I would cancel each other out, because we both spoke four languages, trained in the same form of hand to hand combat, and trained in the same weaponry."

He stood from the bed, and walked over to get his bath towel.  "So, what you're telling me is that the fact that your ID's were together was something that never happened?"

She looked at him from her position on the bed. "It never happened before. Not ever."


	9. Chapter 9

Title: "Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: none at this time.

Feedback: YES YES YES

Distribution: CD ALL DAY. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Anything Alias related (Vaughn, Devlin, SD-4,SD-6, Weiss, Donovan the dog) are all the property of ABC and Touchstone Pictures. It is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Diana Rochelle is mine. 

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 for language 

A/N: Thank you to Robin for your wonderful help. Thanks to Rach for helping me with the added action. "Blah, Blah!" ;-) 

***

Diana pulled the hat down harder on her head as she walked towards the open-air market. She could almost hear Vaughn telling her that what she was doing was reckless, and, as usual, she ignored his voice of reason. She smiled as she reached her destination; there were mothers pulling their children behind them, and chefs making careful selections for their menus. She located a familiar booth and made her way towards it.

***

"Jacques," she said to an older man who was engrossed in a bushel of green onions.

He looked up from his task and blinked several times. "Diana," he whispered. 

She nodded. "How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you, my dear." He placed the vegetables on the table before hugging her tightly. "All the better for seeing you," he murmured.

"What has it been? Five years?" she asked, returning his hug. She felt her heart tug at her as she hugged the older man. Jacques Delacroix, a former operative, had been a trusted friend who knew about her and Michael's real career, and had been a well of valuable information.

"It's been much too long," he responded as he pulled away. "Is this visit 'business' related?"

She flashed him a warm smile. "Actually, no." She sighed, as she realized how much she liked not having to talk to Jacques about business. "I'm making dinner tonight, and—"

"For Vaughn?"

"Yes, and I'd—"

"Like my help in selecting ingredients for dinner tonight."

She smiled at him again. "I see you still have that annoying habit of finishing my sentences, Jacques. Do you know how much—"

"You missed that? I missed it too, Diana." He clasped his hands together. "Now, let's get your menu together."

***

Vaughn drummed his fingers on his desk as he flipped aimlessly through the budget file in front of him. He darted a glance at the small mahogany clock that his mother had given him for his thirtieth birthday. It seemed as if it had been 3:15 for the past two hours. 

"You know no matter how long you stare at the clock, it's not going to move any faster," Weiss teased from outside his office door. Without waiting for an invitation, he walked in and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

"What?"

"It's just that you've been walking around like a space cadet all day," he replied with a smirk on his face. "So, how's Diana?"

"She's—she's fine. She's really great," Vaughn replied more eager than he intended. Weiss's smirk grew into a wide smile.

"What now?" Vaughn asked, exasperated.

"Nothing, Mike. It's just that I haven't seen you this happy in a while. Seeing her has been good for you," Weiss replied, sounding very much like a wise man instead of the wisecracking friend that Vaughn had become accustomed to. "So?"

"So, what?"

"So, what's going to happen now?" Weiss asked, raising his eyebrow.

"With me and Diana?" Vaughn asked, knowing what Weiss was getting at.

"No, with you and Donovan. Yes, with you and Diana!" Weiss exclaimed throwing his hands up. "Do you think she'll stick around this time?"

"Part of me wants to believe that she'll be there when I get home, and that she'll continue to be there. The logical part of me, the part that went through her leaving the first time, has a feeling that she won't," he responded. 

"Do yourself a favor. Stop thinking about _if _she leaves again; she's here now. Make the most of it." 

"Yeah, I know you're right, Eric, but—"

"But nothing. Diana's back, and you are going to make the most of it." He took the file out of Vaughn's hand. "Go home."

"You know I can't do that. I have a meeting at four o'clock. Then I have to come back here and go over Patrick Williams' file."

"Patrick Williams? Wasn't he Diana's team leader?"

"Yeah, he was," Vaughn muttered. He hated hearing that man's name as much now as he had five years ago. Patrick had been cocky in that Hollywood movie star way and reckless, but he got the job done, which is why the CIA had kept him on. Patrick never hid the fact that he thought he was a better man for Diana than Vaughn was. The fact that Diana had turned to Patrick five years ago still made him angry. 

"Mind telling me why you pulled his file? Never mind the fact that black ops files are classified to the point where you'd have to sign over your first born to even look at them." Weiss chuckled, but Vaughn knew that he was partially right; he had to call in a few favors to see the file. He'd spend months repaying them.

"Diana told me this morning that she and Patrick never traveled together when the team had to split up. But this time, before the only mission they had together fell apart, he arranges for them to travel together. I want to know why."

Weiss shook his head. "When the clerk brings the file to your office, I'll bring it to you, and I'll cover for you at the meeting. It's just the annual budget meeting; you won't be missed."

Vaughn sat back in his chair and smiled. "Thanks."

"Anytime. Now, let's talk about your hockey team."

They were arguing the fine points of hockey when Vaughn's assistant knocked on the frame of the open office door. "Agent Vaughn?"

"Yes, what is it, Jackie?"

"One of the agents watching your house is on line one," his assistant said apprehensively as she walked into his office.

The smile on his face left immediately. "Is everything okay?" 

"I'm not sure, sir. He's saying that Agent Rochelle is gone. Her bags are still there, but she's gone." 

Vaughn's heart dropped. He'd told her to stay in the house while he was gone--it was just like her to ignore his warnings. "Have they searched the neighborhood yet?" It was an obvious question, with an even more obvious answer, but he hoped that he was wrong. 

"Yes, they've searched the area, and there's no sign of her," his assistant said, looking at him nervously. Vaughn ran various scenarios through his head as to her location. Grabbed by Security Section. Helpless and doped up, being tortured for information. On a plane to Madagascar or Moscow, running again. None of these sat well with him. 

"Thanks, Jackie," he mumbled, staring at the blinking light on his phone. She retreated as quickly as she had appeared.

Weiss stood up. "I'm going to see what I can find out. I'm sure she's okay, Mike," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the office.

Vaughn picked up the phone. "This is Agent Vaughn."

****

"Do you know that he came here almost every day for a month after you'd left?" Jacques handed her a bushel of cilantro and walked towards the back of the booth. 

"I didn't think he'd do that," Diana said, placing the herb in the bag that he had provided to her.

"Oh, he did, and he still comes by here time to time just to talk. Vaughn was devastated when you left, and probably will be worse if you leave again. You _are_ staying, correct?"

"Jacques, you aren't very subtle are you? I want to stay, but—"

"And you are going to stay." He handed her some asparagus and a white linen tablecloth. "I found this after Vaughn told me that he was going to ask you to marry him. The woman at the antique shop told me it was over one hundred years old. I had intended for it to be a wedding gift. Use it tonight."

Diana looked down at the tablecloth and realized that he had known about her being in town. He had always been an excellent source of information. "I can't take this. Michael and I aren't even engaged anymore. Save it for a couple who are going to be together."

"Diana," Jacques said quietly. "Live for the moment. You and Vaughn are together for now. Use the tablecloth; consider it a welcome back present."

Diana looked at him and felt the happiness that had eluded her for years coming back. "Thank you, Jacques." She hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Diana," he responded as he pulled away from her. "Now, I think I've given you everything, right? Cilantro, asparagus, Cajun spices, iceberg lettuce."

She looked in her bag as he rattled off the contents. "Yes, I do have everything you've given me. No tomatoes?"

"Unfortunately, my latest batch was rotted before I was able to pick them up. If you go to Juliana's booth, she should have some there as well as some seafood. Make sure you tell her to pack them in heavy ice for you. I need you to promise me something, Diana."

"Anything, Jacques," she said as she pulled her hat down on her head again and adjusted her sunglasses.

"That you'll come back to see me again. Don't make me wait another five years."

"You've got a deal," she replied over her shoulder as she walked away.

****

"I'll take one pound of shrimp and four tomatoes," Diana said. "Please make sure to pack them in a lot of ice for me."

She handed the woman some money and took an apple from her stand. "Thank you."

Taking a bite, she smiled as thoughts of Vaughn played in her head. _Michael._ A warm flush came over her body as she remembered the time they had spent together the night before. _Jacques is right. Live for the moment. _Still engrossed in her thoughts, she almost didn't see the man standing right in front of her. She mumbled, "Excuse me." The man didn't move. She looked up at him, careful to keep her hat and sunglasses in place. "Excuse me," she repeated. She strained to see his face in the bright afternoon sun. The apple dropped to the ground, forgotten, as she finally recognized him.

"Nikolai," she gasped.

"I wish I could say it was good to see you again, Diana, but you already know why I'm here," he replied, his Russian accent still strong.

She reached in her wristband to grab her knife. The man in front of her grabbed her wrists. "No. No. None of your fancy knife tricks. There's a sniper with a rifle aimed directly at Mr. Delacroix's head. We don't want to make a scene."

Diana looked past him to her friend who was bending down and talking to a little girl.

"What do you want?" She yanked her wrists away and glared at him.

He looked around at the crowd surrounding them. "Not here." He pulled her into the alley, causing her to drop the bag. "We need to talk."

***

"Here you go," Jacques said, handing the girl an apple. He looked towards the area where Diana had been standing and realized that she was gone. "Go on now. Go catch up with your mother," he murmured to the little girl. He walked over to where Diana had been standing; he saw the bag he had given her. Concerned, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number Vaughn had left him the last time he was here. 

"Yes, I need to talk to Agent Vaughn. It's extremely urgent."

__


	10. Chapter 10

"Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: None at this time

Feedback: Yes. 

Distribution: CD. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Um. If I owned any part of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin, Jacques Delacroix are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: R for language, and violence

Classification: Action/Adventure, General, dash of romance.

A/N are at the end.

***********

"Diana, you and I may not have fought on the same side, but the one thing that I've always respected is that you were loyal. However, I would have never thought that you would be one to follow so blindly," Nikolai said, pushing her in front of him.   
  
Diana turned and glared at the tall man. "Follow so blindly, Nikolai? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Where's the disk and the money, Diana?" he said.  She stepped back and examined her surroundings. His tall frame blocked every available avenue of escape. She could try to fight her way out; she was quick, but she remembered the night he discovered she was a CIA agent.  He was faster; not to mention stronger.

Diana's eyebrows drew together, and she tried to hide her surprise. "What disk? What money?"   
  
"Please stop playing stupid, Diana. My employers are growing impatient. The money and the disk need to be returned to me."  
  
She backed up against the wall. "I'll ask again, Nikolai: What money? What disk?"  
  
He straightened out his jacket and placed his hand over her head.  He leaned forward.  "You lie with such _innocence; I had forgotten how easy it is to believe your lies.  Now, Diana, where is the intel and the money?"  
  
She shook her head and held her hands in front of her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"_Suka_!" Diana's head snapped back as his hand struck her face. She worked her jaw back and forth, checking to see if anything was broken.  She was surprised at how upset she was at being called a bitch; maybe it wouldn't bother her so badly if she was actually lying.  
  
She leaned forward and smirked. "Yeb vas." _

He didn't look upset at being told to "fuck off". He looked her over and smiled slowly. "Good to see that you haven't forgotten your Russian."  
  
"Good to see that you're still a dick," she said, rubbing her jaw. She glanced looked over the littered pavement to look for anything to use against him. Noticing a two by four leaning on the wall to her right, she returned her focus to his face. 

 "What do I owe this visit, Nikolai? Run out of caviar in prison?" She chuckled and slowly inched towards the board.  
  
"As you very well should know, prison is no place for a man of my caliber. People are easily bought, and I couldn't go another day without seeing my favorite CIA agent," he said, grabbing her face and turning it towards him. "Just give me the money and the disk, Diana, and I'll be out of your hair."  
  
She knocked his hand away from her face. "I've already told you that I don't know what you are talking about."  
  
"Lgun!" She couldn't argue; she was a liar by trade, but she wished he would get it through his thick skull that she was telling the truth.  He hissed as he grabbed her neck. "I don't want to hurt you, Diana, but I will if you do not tell me where it is." She squeezed her eyes shut as Nikolai applied more pressure to her throat. "Where is it, Diana?"  
  
"Nikolai--" She struggled to speak; her hand moved across the brick wall towards the board. She grabbed it and swung it towards his midsection. His vice-like grip on her neck loosened as the board connected with his side.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" she gasped as she started to cough.

********

Vaughn rushed into the market and headed towards its center.  He pressed on the comm link in his ear. 

"Weiss? You there?" He whispered as he looked through the mass of people for anyone who stood out from the usual crowd of chefs and restaurateurs. He located his old friends' booth and headed towards it.

"I'm here, Vaughn. Any sign of Diana yet?"

"Not yet. Anything on your end?"

Weiss, who had entered from the south side, replied, "Nothing here either, Vaughn. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"That's what I was afraid of." He looked down at his watch. _4:00 pm. She had been missing for more than forty-five minutes. When he reached the booth, he waited while his old friend finished bagging some vegetables. Memories flooded Vaughn's mind as he thought back the first time he and Jacques had met.  _

_"So, you're the man that Diana loves?" Jacques said, looking over Vaughn with a slight smirk on his face. "I am," Vaughn replied confidently. Diana had explained to him that Jacques had been like a father to her since she'd been in the CIA, and she wanted Vaughn to meet him. Jacques walked around Vaughn as if he was sizing him up. "My Diana, she's made a good choice," he said as he finished walking around him._

"Jacques," Vaughn said quietly as the young woman walked away.

"Vaughn," Jacques replied. He walked towards the back of his booth. "Please come back here."

"Jacques, we don't have time. Just tell me—"

"Come back here, Michael," he said, this time with more edge in his voice.  

As they reached the back, Jacques pulled a sack from underneath the back table and handed it to him. "Take this." 

Vaughn looked at the brightly colored bag and frowned. "Vegetables, Jacques?  You tell me that Diana is missing, and you're giving me fucking vegetables?"

"Goddammit, Michael!" Jacques said, throwing his free hand up in frustration. "For once, stop thinking that you are Captain America and look in the bag."

Glaring back at him, Vaughn reached into it.  His shoulders relaxed as he felt a Kevlar vest.  "What's going on, Jacques? Why didn't you call me the minute you saw her? I told her to stay at my house."

"Michael, when have you ever known Diana to listen to anyone but herself?  Look," he said, holding his hands out in front of him. "There were two men who are here. The one who took Diana, and there's one in the building directly in front of this booth. I believe that both men are armed.  Are you alone or is someone with you?"

As if on cue, Weiss walked up behind Vaughn. "Vaughn, any word yet?"

Vaughn motioned towards Weiss. "It's just the two of us."

Jacques looked over Weiss and nodded. "I would suggest that you two spilt up. One of you take the man in that building, and someone try to find Diana before it's too late." He pointed at Weiss. "Are you armed?"

Weiss lifted the side of his jacket to show his gun. 

"Good," Jacques replied. He bent over and took another bag from underneath the table.   
"Put the vests on and go help her."

After putting his vest on, Weiss turned to Vaughn. "She's going to be okay, Vaughn. You know that, right?"

Vaughn shrugged into his vest and looked up at the old brownstone building in front of the booth. The glass from the windows shimmered in bright sunlight as Vaughn raised a hand to shield his eyes. The rays of the light splashed off the panes, blinding him. He was fumbling with his sunglasses when a sudden movement from the far-left window caught his attention. _What was that? He studied the area and, a second later, received an answer to his question. _

"Do you see that?" he asked Weiss, nodding slightly towards the building.

Weiss looked at the building. "See what?"

"Third floor window. In the corner."

Weiss put his sunglasses on and looked at the window again. "I see him," he said quietly, before looking back at Vaughn. He adjusted his suit jacket. "I'll take care of it. You just go get Diana."

"Eric, you'll need help up there," Vaughn said hesitantly, glancing at the dusty third story window.

"Mike, I'll be okay. Go find her."

"Thanks, Weiss," he called over his shoulder as he walked towards the area where Jacques said he saw her last.

*****

Nikolai fell back onto the crates with a grunt. Diana stood over him with the two by four in her hand. "Get up, you bastard! Get up!" she shouted.

Diana stepped back in shock as she heard Nikolai start to laugh. "Fuck, Diana. Still using weapons instead of your bare hands to take down your enemy? I thought I trained you better than that."

"That was a long time ago, Nikolai.  St. Petersburg is in the past, and you should be in prison. What are you doing here?"

He stood up and straightened out his jacket. He stepped dangerously close to her and said, "Like I told you, Diana. I want the disk and the money, and I'll leave you alone."

She tossed the board down to the ground and glared at him. "And like I told you, Nikolai, I do NOT know what you're talking about."

"You're a professional liar, Diana. Loyal to your country and your fellow agents; what were the names again?  Daniel, Marisa and— "

"You shut up, Nikolai! Shut up!" she shouted, her voice betraying her emotions.  Her chin trembled as he mentioned her dead team members' names. Of course, he had heard about what happened in Barcelona. He always made sure he had the right information to get the job done. "Shut up," she whispered.

Noticing her lack of control, Nikolai stepped closer to her. "How did they die, Diana?  Bound and shot in the head? It's a pity that they died like that--"

"Shut up!" Diana said again, this time lunging at him. He quickly moved to the left, and she fell to the littered pavement. He reached down and pulled her up by her hair. "Diana, I'm growing impatient with this little game we're playing."  He held her by the neck against the wall.  "I'm only going to ask one more time: Where is the disk and the money?"

Diana clawed at his huge hand and tried to get him to loosen increasingly tight grip. She closed her eyes tightly as she felt herself losing consciousness. 

*****

Weiss carefully sprinted up three flights of stairs, making sure to keep as quiet as possible. He rounded a corner on the third floor, keeping his back straight against the dusty cinderblock walls, his gun drawn. Inching closer to the room where he suspected the sniper was located; he steadied himself with a few deep breaths.

Just as he was about to make his move into the room, he stopped, having heard a voice.

It was deep, strangely calm--and speaking Russian.

Feeling one last breath float in and out of his lungs, he lunged into the room, which appeared to hold the dilapidated remains of a former office.

"CIA! Freeze!" His voice, deep and powerful, came as a surprise to him, but not to the sniper, who was already standing and facing the doorway, poised for battle.

Shocked, Weiss belted out one last warning. "Put the gun down, NOW, shithead!"

"I think it would be best if you put your gun down," the sniper replied in an accent that sounded like a strange mix of British and Russian, his eyes bearing down on Weiss.

"Sorry, pal, that's not gonna happen," Weiss snapped, trying to bolster the courage to stare down this stranger.

"It is too bad, then," the man, dressed in black fatigues, continued. "Your friend Diana will be dead within minutes."

"You're bluffing," Weiss spat angrily, hoping he was right.

"I am?" The man brought pressed on his earpiece; gun still trained on Weiss. "Nikolai--"

A long-drawn out Russian phrase followed. The man raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. "Still think I'm bluffing?"

Weiss bit his lip as he tried to mentally run through his options. None, except surrendering, would ensure Diana's safety. And even then--it wasn't guaranteed.

He knew he had to make a decision when a red laser sight swept over his face and settled between his eyes, casting an eerie rosy glow over his vision.

"Moment of truth," the Russian said in a steady tone. "Put down your weapon."

Weiss felt his finger involuntarily twitch on his handgun. The decision was made at that moment.

"Fuck you, asshole."

And before he could pull the trigger, the red glow descended in a blur and he felt a bullet tear through his leg.

Weiss tumbled to the old wood floor with a grunt of pain, dropping his gun as he grabbed his wounded thigh.

"Sonofabitch," Weiss cried out, not wanting to look at his wound. He could feel the blood ooze from his body and coat his hands. The man advanced slowly, rifle still pointed at Weiss. He bent to pick up the handgun and without another word, snatched Weiss's comm link and transmitter.

He was gone a short time later.

*****

Vaughn jumped as he heard a shot through his earpiece, and then saw birds flying from the rooftop of the building that Weiss had disappeared into.

"Eric?" He whispered as he pushed on his comm link.  Silence greeted him.  "Weiss?"

This time static answered him. "Fuck!" Vaughn muttered to himself. _Where is he?"_

He continued to walk further into the alley that was next to where Diana was last seen. He pulled off his sunglasses. His eyes struggled to adjust to the dimmer light. He pulled out his gun from his shoulder holster and waited for any sign of her or her captor. He listened for glass shattering or boxes falling to the ground. There was only silence.  He loosened his grip on the gun as he walked further into the dark alley.  

He stepped back as a cat crossed his path and meowed. "Shhhh," he said as the cat sat down in front of him.  "Go on. Get out of here," he ordered.  It continued to sit there. "Move," Vaughn said again, reaching down to push the cat out of the way.  Hissing, the cat ran further down the alley. "Stupid cat," he mumbled as he stood back up.

_"Suka."  Vaughn stopped as he heard someone talking in Russian. His grip tightened again on his gun. His eyes widened as he heard a woman's voice respond in the same language. _

"Udirat' ot ja."

"Diana," he said as he started to walk towards the two voices.

As he reached the corner of the alley, he pressed himself against the wall, careful not to make a sound.

  
"You are making this harder than it needs to be, Diana," said the man with the deep voice. "I've already received the order to finish this job." Vaughn strained to hear her response. He winced as he heard her take a sharp breath and start to cough. 

"Nikolai, I've already told you: I don't know what you're talking about."

He could hear her being picked up. "Diana, I'm tired of fighting with you. Tell me where the money and the disk are or you die right here."

Vaughn's pulse quickened as he heard the stranger draw his gun. "You have one minute, Diana.  What's your choice?" 

"Go to hell," she mumbled.  Vaughn could hear the smirk on her face in her voice. _Typical of her. She has a gun aimed at her head, and she's making jokes._

"Very well.  Goodbye, Diana." 

Vaughn made a split second decision and put his gun back in his holster. He just hoped it wouldn't be the end for him and Diana.

"You know killing an agent is a federal offense," Vaughn said loudly as he walked around the corner.  "You should put that gun down."

Diana looked at him and slightly shook her head. "Michael--what are you doing here?" she said weakly.  

Vaughn looked over at her. "Are you okay?"

"A little banged up, but I'll live," she said. His heart was hurting, as he looked her over. Her face that had been smooth the night before was now spotted with bruises, and what looked like dry, caked blood.  The eyes that always told him how she felt before she could even speak to him were now blood shot.  She favored her right arm, as the Russian stranger held his gun to her head.

Nodding, Vaughn turned to Nikolai. "Why don't you let her go? She obviously doesn't know anything."

"Sorry, I can't do that. She knows what I'm looking for. All I need is that information and per her usual stubborn behavior, she isn't telling me anything, Agent--?"

"Agent Vaughn, and you are?"

"Nikolai Ludin. As I've said, Agent Rochelle isn't giving me what I'm looking for, and I'm tired of wasting my time. Goodbye, Diana."

Vaughn drew his gun. "Let her go," he said with authority that surprised even him.  "Killing her won't solve anything."  He relaxed his grip on his gun as he watched the other man lower his gun from Diana's head.

"No, you're right, Agent Vaughn. Killing this suka won't solve anything. You could torture her to death, and she'd go to her grave with her secrets. That was one of the things I admired about her.  One of her weaknesses was that she ALWAYS broke when a fellow agent was in danger. Almost got her killed a few times--- "

Vaughn watched as Diana's eyes showed recognition.  She narrowed her eyes and looked at him strangely. "Vaughn," she said, her voice calm, and even. "Get out of the way."

"What?" A flash of red blurred his vision.

"Just get the fuck out of the way!" she shouted. 

A single shot rang out, missing his neck by an inch. "What the—" He realized that there was someone else in the area. _Must be the sniper that Weiss was supposed to stop. _He felt a sinking sensation growing in his stomach. 

"Vaughn! Move!" Diana shouted from the corner of the alley. He ran and jumped behind a stack of crates as the second bullet missed his leg.

Nikolai watched the whole scene with amusement. "See, Agent Vaughn, I'm in agreement with you. Killing her wouldn't solve anything, but killing you?  Much more interesting."

Vaughn hid behind the crates and considered his options.  He counted to ten as he tried to slow his breathing.  It had been a while since he'd been at the shooting range, and concern flooded through him as he tried to remember the last time he'd hit his target.

"I'll admit you took me by surprise, Ludin.  Not many people can do that even once," he said standing up, his gun drawn.

"Vaughn? What are you doing?" Diana said from her position on the alley wall.

"Showing our Russian friend here that I don't like surprises."

"You understand that there's a sniper who could take you out?" Diana asked.

Vaughn realized that Diana knew Nikolai's modus operandi better than he did. 

"I do," Vaughn said quietly. "I'm willing to bet that the sniper is good, but not that good. I can put one bullet between our friend's eyes before the sniper can take me out."

"Are you willing to bet your life, Michael?" 

"For you? Yes," he said with sincerity.

Nikolai looked between the both of them with amusement dancing on his weathered face.  "How sweet." He grabbed her arm and held her in front of him.  "The moment I move, the sniper will take fire.  Who he kills, I don't know, but one of you will die today." He reached around and kissed Diana forcibly on the lips. "Do svidanija, Diana." He spun her around and let her go.

As if in slow motion, Vaughn grabbed her, and they both fell to the pavement. He flipped her over, and lay on top of her to protect her from the shower of bullets. He grunted as he felt the pain of a bullet bouncing off the vest hidden beneath his jacket. He didn't want to think about the bruise he would have from it.

Their breathing became in sync as the bullets finally stopped. Vaughn realized that the sniper had left with Nikolai.  "Diana," he said as he brushed the hair out of her face. "Are you hurt?"  

"I'm good, I think.  How did you find me?"

He rolled to her left and sat up. "Jacques called me at the office."

"Oh." She sat up next to him. "Are you alone?"

"No, Eric is here. But we lost—"

"Vaughn." 

Both of them turned around and saw Weiss standing there with a piece of cloth tied around his leg. "Did I miss much?"

*****

A/N: Thank you especially to Robin for being my beta throughout this whole thing so far. It's been a great ride, and I appreciate everything that you've done.  Karen T, for listening to me bitching and moaning about fic and other things. Credit to Rach for the Weiss scene and for being my plot tramp during the day. The sniper is all hers as well.

Russian translations:

"_Udirat' ot ja." Get away from me._

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

  
"Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com

Website: None at this time

Feedback: Yes. 

Distribution: Cover Me, and alias fanfiction list. Anyone else, please ask me.

Disclaimer: Um. If I owned any part of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

Rating: PG-13 

Classification: Action/Adventure, General, dash of romance.

A/N are at the end.

*****

"Rochelle, you look like shit," Weiss said, grimacing

"Weiss, you have a hole in your leg," she responded holding her arm, pain searing through every part of her body.

"A fine pair we make, huh?"

"Yeah, the perfect couple," she replied, chuckling softly. "Eric, the sniper--can you tell me what kind of rifle he had?"

"Diana, I have a hole in my leg, and you're asking me about a gun?" he said, grimacing again.

"Eric," she said, her voice cracking. "Please, it's important. What kind of gun was it?"

He looked over at her and sighed. "Black, laser scope, ten round magazine, a semi-automatic. It looked like a Russian Dra--"

"A Russian Dragunov SVD." A chill ran over her body; she hadn't seen that gun since St. Petersburg.

"Diana, how did you know about that?" Eric asked, looking at her strangely.

"I've had a lot of experience," she responded, looking over at him. "I'm sorry that you were hurt, Eric."

A wry smile spread across his face.  "Your concern breaks my heart. So, are you going to tell me how you know about that gun?"

"I can't, Weiss. It's classified information."

"Bullshit, Diana. I've known you for what? Five or six years now? What's going on?"

"Can you just trust me on this one?" she pleaded. "Please."

He frowned. "Diana, if this is going to get me into trouble--"

"It won't, Weiss. I just needed to know what kind of gun it was. That's all," she said, hoping that he would buy her explanation. 

"Rochelle, whatever is going on--I just hope you know what you're doing." He tied the piece of cloth around his leg tighter.

"Unfortunately, I do," she muttered. She leaned back on the brick wall and closed her eyes.

"Agents Rochelle and Weiss?"

Diana opened her eyes and saw two men standing in front of them. "Where's Agent Vaughn?"

"He went back to the office. He told us to get you two to a hospital, and then Agent Rochelle you are to go back to his house."

She winced as she stood up. "I'm not going to his place. I need you to take me back to the safe house." She held her hand out to Weiss. "Give me your hand, Eric."

The younger agent looked at his partner and shook his head. "Agent Vaughn gave us specific orders. After the hospital, you're to go back to his house."

"I don't care what type of orders he gave you," she mumbled, as she strained to help Weiss up. "I need to go back to the safe house."

The agent looked at her with apprehension. "But Agent Vaughn--"

"Isn't here. Please take me to the safe house after the hospital, Agent--"

"Lareby," he told her after clearing his throat. 

"Agent Lareby. Don't worry about Agent Vaughn.  If he gets angry with you, tell him that I was the one who ordered you to take me back. I'll deal with it then."

The agent shook his head again. Diana could see his thoughts on his face. He was so young, and he hadn't learned the game face that most CIA agents have by their third year. She watched as he remembered all the gossip he'd heard about her—including her outburst against Haladaki—and then watched him decided that he didn't want or need the grief of fighting with her.

"Fine, whatever you say, Agent Rochelle." He walked over to them and took Weiss' other arm. "Let's get you two to the hospital."

***

Vaughn closed his office door behind him. He shrugged out of his vest, wincing as it brushed against the bruise from the bullet that had hit him just an hour ago.  Walking over to his desk, he sat down, and began to rub his left temple.  

"Agent Vaughn?" his assistant called out to him, opening the door slightly.

"Yes. What is it, Jackie?" he replied with a slight edge to his voice.

"One of the clerks brought this file up while you and Mr. Weiss were gone.  I didn't want to leave it on your desk for prying eyes."  She walked in and placed the two-inch thick folder in front of him. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks," he mumbled, opening the file.  

"Is Agent Rochelle okay?"

"Hmm?"

"Is Diana okay?" Jackie asked, worry evident in her voice.  

"Yes, she's fine, Jackie. A little bruised, but she's fine," he replied, looking up.  

She took a deep breath and sighed. "That's good to know. I've always liked her."

"I have, too, Jackie," he murmured, turning his attention back to the file in front of him.

Vaughn took out several papers and laid them in front of him.  He told himself that he wasn't betraying Diana's trust, and that he wasn't being a jealous idiot.  He needed to know everything about this case if he was going to protect her.

"Skilled in the art of deception," he mumbled as he read over Patrick's profile. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

_Patrick Williams. Age: 35. Marital Status: Single. _

_10-18-2000: Agent Williams is showing signs of increasingly aggressive behavior during recent operations.  Gets results, but needs to be brought in for evaluation.  _

_11-30-2000: Agent Williams disobeyed a direct order to bring his team in. Claimed that they were in the middle of an operation in St. Petersburg. Is still providing positive results._

_12-27-2000: Showing overly obsessive behavior towards certain members of his team. Unsure if this is affecting his work. _

_1-19-01: Pictures of Agents Williams and Rochelle meeting with crime boss Desmond Petrov. Petrov is unrelated to any known operations. _

He ran his hands over the glossy eight by ten photographs. He took a second glance at the blond haired Diana.  He was always amazed at how much a simple dye job could change her appearance.

Vaughn eyes' widened as he looked at the next entry.

_2-14-01: Desmond Petrov found dead. Agent Rochelle was the last person known to have been seen with him. Possible involvement with crime is unknown. Still unable to contact Agent Williams or anyone else on the team._

_5-14-01: After three months of no communication, Agent Williams contacted his handler in Budapest. Unable to locate his handler after his scheduled meeting with Williams, but Agent Williams is still reporting in periodically. He has been assigned along with his team for more covert operations in Barcelona, Romania, and Berlin. He has been ordered to report in three months with detailed reports regarding his activity._

_8-14-01: Agent Williams has provided the agency with information regarding Agent Rochelle. He has reported that there have been several times over the past three months that she has come close to killing several suspects. Cites that the job may be becoming more than she can handle. Assures his handler that he will keep an eye on her._

He thought about the pictures that he had seen of the two men from SD-4. He remembered the disturbed look in Sydney's eyes and how he'd ignored her concerns.  The injuries Diana had inflicted on those men had been severe, and he'd told himself that she'd only been protecting herself, but now he was starting to wonder. He shifted in his chair and told himself that this was Diana. He knew her. He trusted her.

He pulled out a psychology evaluation that had been done by Dr. Barnette.

_After reading over this profile, and the transcripts of the conversations that Agent Williams has had with his new handler and various CIA officials, I am of the opinion that he needs to be brought in permanently. He is starting to blur the line between fact and fiction. There have been several times that he has referred to himself as the alias he was using and not his name. His fixation on his agents is borderline obsessive and could prove detrimental to further operations._

Vaughn went through the file looking for some more information. His shoulders tensed as he read the entries regarding Patrick's behavior and Diana's troubles. Phrases like "reckless endangerment" and "no remorse" assaulted his senses. The file becoming more about Diana and less about Patrick.

_What's going on?_

He scanned the final page of entries and stopped at the one dated a week before Diana appeared back in his life.

_Agent Williams has alerted us that he is suspicious of Agent Rochelle's behavior. He is concerned that during the operation into St. Petersburg two years ago, she became a double agent. Enclosed are pictures of her meetings with two members of K-Directorate: Nikolai Ludin and an unidentified man. Agent Williams has been told not to confront her and that an extraction team will come for the team at the safe house in Barcelona._

_Extraction team under the guise of sanitation workers arrived at the safe house and found that a fire had gutted the building.  Dental records identified the human remains. Agent Williams, unfortunately, was one of the victims, as was every member of his team except Agent Rochelle. Investigation pending. She is not to be trusted until we ascertain her true status._

Closing the file, he stood up from his desk. He shook his head as that last phrase in the entry played in his head.  He wanted to trust her; in fact he had trusted her until now. She was still Diana, the woman he had fallen in love with five years ago. _Stop fooling yourself, Vaughn. Diana's different; she's changed.  He pulled out the pictures of Diana and Nikolai, laughing and smiling at each other. A small frown played on his face as he looked at Diana's wide smile.  It was a look that was usually reserved for people she trusted and respected.  __Was she a double?_

He opened his office door and called out, "Jackie, are Agents Rochelle and Weiss at the hospital, yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Vaughn.  Agent Lareby just called to check in," she informed him as she put the phone back into its cradle. "Weiss was taken back immediately, but Diana's just now been taken back to an examination room."

"Good. If anyone is looking for me, I'll be at the hospital talking to Agent Rochelle."

*****

"Doctor Phillips told me to give you these pain killers; it should make the pressure in your neck subside a little," the nurse replied, handing Diana two small pink pills.

"Thanks," Diana said with a weak smile.  She had not even been aware of much she was hurting until she had lain down onto the exam table. Which was fortunate, since there had been a bus crash on the freeway, and she had taken a back seat to the seriously injured.  The doctor had only been able to spend a few minutes with her until he had rushed out of the room again for another emergency. 

The nurse sat the medicine bottle back into a cabinet and locked it.  Diana now had access to the final part of her plan.   

Moaning, she laid down on the gurney. "I think something's wrong with my stomach."

The nurse rushed to her side. "You were fine just a minute ago."

"I know, but—"she grabbed her stomach tighter and turned over.  "Just get the doctor, please."

"Okay, I'll go see if I can find him."

"Thank you," she gasped.

Hearing the nurse's shoes squeak their way out into the hallway, she sat up.  Locating the cabinet by the door, she looked for something to pick the lock. Pulling at a bobby pin in her hair, she rushed over to the locked cabinet.  One of her instructors had told her once that a bobby pin could be one of the handiest tools an agent could have.  Diana had laughed then, but she now realized its value.  She slid the pin in, played with the tumblers for a second, and thought a LA hospital should really have better security as she yanked open the cabinet door.

Her hands ran over the various bottles.  A small smile came to her face as she found what she was looking for. _Diazepam. Hopefully, I won't have to use this. She took four pills out of the bottle and placed them in her jeans pocket. She strolled back to gurney and lay back down._

***

Vaughn walked quickly down the hallway towards the exam room. The file that held the pictures of Diana and Nikolai was held tightly in his hands. _Diana, you'd better have a good explanation for this. He knocked on the door and cracked it open._

"Diana?"  The antiseptic smell of the room attacked his senses. He had never liked the smell of hospitals. 

"I'm over here, Michael," a voice said from the corner of the room.  "You can come in."

He walked in and saw her looking out a window. "What did the doctor say?"

"I'm fine. Just a little bruising. Nothing serious."

Vaughn examined her back with a critical eye. From where he was standing, she _did look fine. A slow breath of relief left his body._

"I'm not going back to your house, by the way," Diana declared as she swung around to face him. "You know that's a bad idea."

His prepared arguments—because a stuttering Agent Lareby had already told him that she had refused to return to his house--vanished from his mind as he saw her.  With the dimming sunlight passing over her face, he could see every ruptured blood vessel Nikolai had inflicted upon her.

Her left eye was almost completely bloodshot and a cotton bandage was taped to her forehead, protecting another cut. Her lower lip had started to swell; the open wound above her lip was already starting to heal.   

"You should sit down, Diana," he said, closing the door. 

"I'm fine. How's your side?" she asked, nodding towards him.

He gingerly touched his side. "There will be a bruise there, but I'm okay."

"Did I tell you thank you?"

"For what?"

"For saving my life. I'm not sure I would be here, if you hadn't come along. So, thank you, Michael. I mean it."

"You would've done the same thing for me, Diana," he said, leaning against the counter. He thought about the pictures he had brought with him.  He wondered if she would take the chance of being killed to protect him. "I need to talk to you about something."

"I'm listening," she said, rubbing her forehead. 

He reached into the folder and pulled out the color photographs. "Care to explain how you knew the man who attacked you?"

Diana walked over and took the pictures from his hand. "Where did you get these?" 

"They were in Patrick's file." He braced for her response. 

"How--Why did you pull his file?" she asked, anger evident in her voice.

"Does it matter, Diana?" 

"Yes, it damn well matters!" Diana exploded.  "Who do you think you are pulling his file?  Patrick was my friend, and he died trying to help me, and now you're what?  Investigating him?"

"I wanted to know what the hell was going, Diana! I wasn't checking up on Patrick.  I was trying—"

Diana threw her hands up in the air. "You never liked Patrick."

"No, I didn't. But I knew he was a good agent, and I'm glad I pulled his file, Diana, because there is a hell of a lot that needs to be explained."

"Explained." Her fists clenched at her side as she took two steps forward.  "I'll explain. We were in deep cover for most of the last five years. We did what needed to be done to protect this country.  Patrick was a good man, and you have no right to suspect him of anything!"

"He's not the only one I'm suspecting, Diana!" Vaughn fired back.

Vaughn watched as her head snapped back. "What did you say?" 

He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "Diana, I'm sorry."

"Don't bother," she said, disgust showing on her face. 

"What am I supposed to think, Diana? I see pictures of you smiling at the man who attacked you, and I'm not supposed to ask questions?"

"You are supposed to trust me!" she shouted.

He wanted to believe her, and last year he wouldn't have even doubted her for a moment.  But then he had met Sydney Bristow and learned that even those closest to you can betray you.  She had learned she worked for the enemy, which her father had known and never told her until he was forced to. He watched her struggle as she discovered that her mother wasn't the person she had thought, and then he had seen the despair in her eyes when she learned that a man she once loved was an assassin. He had told Sydney at the warehouse that Diana wasn't Noah, but he couldn't find it within himself to totally forget the possibility that she'd changed over the years 

"You do trust me?" she asked, her voice quiet.

_I want to, Diana. God, I want to. _

"Can you tell me about the relationship between you and Nikolai?" he questioned. _Tell me something tangible, Diana. _

"It's classified," she said evenly. She walked over to the door and opened it slightly. "Agent Lareby?" 

She turned to face Vaughn.  "As long as I've known you, Michael, you've never questioned my loyalty to the job or to this country. And now because you've seen photographs, you're going to throw all that away. I just need you to trust me, Michael. Can you do that?"

He wanted to say yes; he wanted to scream it. But the entries in the file and the photographs made it hard for him to say it._ What he had learned this last year by watching Sydney kept him from opening his mouth._

She pressed her lips into a thin line.  "Your silence speaks for itself." She opened the door wider to let the other agent in. "If the CIA needs to talk to me, I'll be at the safe house.  Thanks again for saving me, Michael. I'll never forget it. Let's go, Agent Lareby."

***

A/N: Thanks to Robin and Celli for the wonderful beta.  It's been a bumpy ride, kids, thanks for still being there. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's almost done!!  

Research: Russian Dragunov SVD, information can be found at http://www.world.guns.ru/sniper/sn18-e.htm

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

"Recoil" 

**Author:** Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

**Email:** jch114@hotmail.com

**Website:** None at this time

**Feedback:** Yes. 

**Distribution:** Cover Me, and alias fanfiction list. Anyone else, please ask me.

**Disclaimer:** Um. If I owned any part of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin are mine.

**Summary:** A woman from Vaughn's past comes back.

**Rating:** PG-13 

**Classification:** Action/Adventure, General, dash of romance.

**A/N are at the end.**

*****

Diana walked quietly next to Agent Lareby through the hospital parking garage. She fought back bitter tears as the distrust on Michael's face came to mind. As much as she hated to admit it, it _did hurt that he didn't trust her. __I need to get out of here. Sort this out._

"Agent Lareby," she said as she got into the back seat of the dark-blue SUV, "have you ever lost trust in someone you cared about?"

"What do you mean, Agent Rochelle?" he asked, getting into the front seat.

"Please call me 'Diana'," she answered. "'Agent Rochelle' just seems too formal right now."

"Okay, Diana," he replied, smiling slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, have you ever lost trust in someone? Wife? Girlfriend?"  

"No, but I've had people lose their trust in me," he offered, starting the truck up.  

Diana knew that by the amused look he gave her that she must've had an expression of shock on her face. "You don't strike me as the untrustworthy type, Agent Lareby."

"I was a bit of a wild child in college," he said, chuckling. 

She looked at the closely cut blonde hair and the dark suit. "Funny, but you don't strike me as such."

"You'd be surprised at what all that I've done," he said before carefully pulling out of the garage.

"I doubt it," she said, looking out of the tinted window. "How did you fix it?"

"It took a lot of time. When someone loses their trust in you, it isn't easily fixed," he answered causally.

"Even if it's a misunderstanding?" The logical side of her knew that Michael had every right **not to trust her based on those pictures. But being caught by surprise had made her revert to her standard defense: "It's classified." She had no idea that those pictures existed.  **

"Is it, Diana?"

"Yes," she replied, thinking about the reality that those pictures didn't show. "It's a misunderstanding."

"Then Agent Vaughn shouldn't have a hard time realizing that.  He can't be that stubborn."

Diana looked up and met Agent Lareby's gaze in the rearview mirror. "What makes you think I'm talking about Agent Vaughn?"

"I-I'm sorry if it was inappropriate, Diana. I just had noticed that you two were arguing, and I know that you guys were partners a while back," he answered, glancing at her nervously, as if he expected her to lash out.

"Don't worry about it," she said, holding her hand up. "It's okay. What's your name, by the way? You seem to know so much about me, but I don't even know your first name." Diana smirked slightly as she watched him let out a slow breath. 

"Greg Lareby."

"Nice to meet you, Greg," she said, putting on her "trust me" smile. He returned it.

Diana sat back in the seat and watched the Los Angeles scenery pass her as they drove back to the safe house.  When they stopped at a red light, she frowned as she realized that they were at the farmer's market where she and Vaughn had almost been killed.  It had been more than a few years since she'd been in L.A., but Lareby seemed to be taking the longest route back to the safe house. Maybe he was avoiding traffic.  "I wonder if Jacques is still at his stand," she thought to herself as she looked at Agent Lareby, and then glanced at the red light.  She hoped there was enough time to implement her plan.  

"Agent Lareby, would you consider yourself a forgiving person?" she asked as she moved from behind him to the seat beside him. 

"Yeah, I guess I am.  I feel like everyone deserves a second chance, given the right circumstances," he said as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

"I hope you can give me a second chance," she said quietly as she readied herself. 

He turned around to face her. "I'm sure that I—" 

Catching him off guard, Diana hit him with an elbow strike, knocking him unconscious.  She grabbed his head to keep him from hitting the steering wheel. Reaching inside his jacket, she took his gun and cell phone.  "No need for you to call Vaughn right now," she murmured as she looked at the red light. She knew that she only had moments before it turned green. She unhooked her seatbelt and slid out of the seat.

"This man needs help!" she shouted, hoping that someone would come.  Slowly people got out of their cars and came towards the dark SUV.  Someone shouted, "I'm a doctor!" and the crowd split to let the woman through.  Diana pushed through the crowd and rushed into the market area. 

***

She watched from the alley as Jacques helped someone pick out some vegetables.  "He's not going to like this," she mumbled, watching the customer walk away. Sheathing the gun in her waist, she adjusted the jacket she'd been wearing and darted across the walkway.

"Jacques!" she hissed as the older man started to close up his booth.  

His eyes widened when he saw her. "What are you doing here, Diana? Where's Michael?"

"I need your help," she whispered, ignoring his questions.  "I need a new passport."

"Does Michael know about this?" Jacques asked, his eyes narrowing. Diana could tell by his body language that she was in for a fight, but Jacques was the only one who could help her get out of Los Angeles. "Are you running again, Diana?" he queried, looking over her shoulder at the passing crowd.

"Jacques, please, I need your help.  Michael thinks I'm working with the enemy and—"

"Are you?" he asked, cutting her off, and pulling down the final shutter on his booth.  He put his jacket on and started to walk towards the parking lot.

Diana recoiled in shock and walked quickly to catch up with him.  "I can't believe you'd think that of me."

"I don't, but that's what Michael is going to think when he finds out that you're leaving again. You can't keep running, Diana. It's going to catch up with you soon enough."

She grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Today, he could have been killed, and it would have been my fault, Jacques.  I can't deal with that. Please," she said as he glared at her. "I need your help."

She started breathing again when his features softened. "Diana, I thought you weren't going to leave again." 

"I don't want to leave, but if I don't now, someone could end up dead. Please," she pleaded with him, letting his arm go.

Jacques walked over to his car and opened the backdoor. "Come on and get in," he said, shaking his head. 

"Thank you, Jacques," she said as she strolled towards him. She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I owe you."  She got into the back seat and slid down.

*****

"Take your coat off and go get cleaned up," Jacques said, pointing towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. "I'll get things set up."  

"Thanks again," she said, and started down the hallway. 

He stopped and nodded slightly. "You're welcome, Diana."

As Diana walked down the hallway, she looked at the pictures on the wall. Finding a familiar photo, she smiled as she thought of the stories that he had told her about the time he and her father had spent in Vietnam. Tracing the outline of her father's face, she wondered what he would have told her to do in her current situation.

Sighing, she placed the gun on the hallway table, emptied the contents of her pocket, and walked down to the bathroom.

****

"Are you ready?" Jacques said from behind the digital camera.

Diana adjusted her position in her seat and smiled brightly. "Ready."

She kept her eyes steady as the bright flash went off.  She blinked several times and stood up. "How did it come out?"

"It's fine," Jacques said as he removed the disk from the camera and sat down at his computer.

"What?" she asked as she shrugged on her jacket. "What's wrong?"

Jacques looked at her from behind the computer and sighed. "You need a new ID, and I'm helping you."

Crossing her arms, she walked over and sat down next to him. Glancing at the various hairstyles on the monitor, she pointed to the dark blonde version of her. "I want that one."

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she asked, "Jacques, look--"

"This isn't a good idea, Diana. You leaving like this," he murmured as he clicked on the blonde picture of her.

"I thought you agreed to help me," she protested, pressing her mouth into a firm line.

"I did, but that doesn't mean I like it. What about Vaughn?"

Her heart cracked as Michael--her Michael--came to mind.  Deciding that it wouldn't bother her, she turned back to the screen. "Michael can take care of himself, Jacques, you know that. He did fine before."

"Yes, Vaughn is a capable agent, and yes, he can take care of himself. But who's going to take care of you?" Jacques asked matter-of-factly.

"Jacques, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine. Green eyes, please," she said, pointing the eyes staring back at her.

"Diana, when you showed up at my booth, you were so happy about being with Michael.  You need that normalcy in your life. You can't keep running." He clicked on the set of green eyes.

She sat back in the chair. "I have to if I want to keep the people I care about alive. I came back to help the CIA with that disk, and if today's events are any indication, I'm doing more harm than good.  With me gone, at least they can go back to finding out who killed my team, and Michael will live to see retirement."

Jacques rubbed his eyes, and studied her.  "It's not always about you, Diana. You need to stop and think about how your actions are affecting the people that care about you."

She stood up and glared at him. "I am thinking about the people in my life.  If something happened to you or Michael because of the things that happened in--" she stopped herself and sighed. She would never tell anyone what she'd done in Russia. "If something happened to you or Michael because of me, I would never forgive myself."

Jacques clicked on the picture of her and walked over to the printer. "I'm capable of taking care of myself, Diana. Remember, I trained you before you were in the CIA."  

"Yes, I remember," she said, her memories going back to the first time she met Jacques in New Orleans, years after her parents death.

He opened a small cabinet underneath the printer and pulled out a small amber bottle. "This is the hair color you'll need. You can find the contacts on the side of the medicine cabinet."

She silently took the bottle from his hand and turned towards the bathroom.

"Diana?" Jacques called out.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I can't promise that Michael won't know that you were here."

She looked down at her feet and grinned. She'd thought he might tell Michael, and maybe she wanted to be found.  Eventually. When everyone was safe. "Just give me a day head start, okay?"

She smiled as he nodded.

***

As Diana looked at herself in the mirror, she grinned.  She was always amazed at how a simple hair color could change someone's appearance.  She cleared her throat and tried her new 'accent'.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Alderman. I work for an advertising agency in London."

"Tone it down a bit, Diana," Jacques said from behind the closed bathroom door. "It sounds forced."

She cleared her throat and tried again. 

"That's better," he said. "Are you almost ready?"

She ran a clear lip-gloss across her lips and straightened her top. She gingerly touched her face, and hoped that people wouldn't ask too many questions.   "Yeah, I'll be out in a second," she answered.

Opening the door, she stepped out into the hallway. "Jacques?"

"Back here," he answered. "I'm putting the finishing touches on your passport. I had to airbrush your injuries out of the picture."

Walking into the room where she'd taken her new ID picture, she stood behind Jacques. "You **are getting better and better at illegal activities," she said in a teasing voice.**

"I learned from the best," Jacques said, getting in his own dig. He used his hand to flatten the laminated picture of her.  He flipped through it, making sure the appropriate stamps where were they were supposed to be. "You're all set," he said as he handed the passport to her.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.  She placed it in her jeans pocket.  "Is there anything else?"

"You'll need to leave your gun here for obvious reasons. The less attention the better.  I'm sure you have your own contacts so I won't direct you to talk to the people I know. Tell people that you were in a car accident if anyone asks about your injuries. I've doctored a report on you at the county hospital in case anyone checks.  And there was one more thing--" Jacques started.

Diana stopped as she started to zip her jacket. "What is it?"

Jacques slid four pills towards her. "Mind telling me why you have Diazepam?"

Diana's heart stopped as she watched Jacques frown. She felt like a thirteen-year-old child who had been caught smoking.  "It's--it's for--"

"Diana, don't try to lie to me. I know you better than you know yourself."

She sat down in the chair and laid her hands in front of her.  She knew that he wouldn't let her out of his apartment until she'd told him everything. "I was once assigned—deep cover—to work in Russia, I did things that I'm not proud of, but they were necessary."

Jacques pulled a stool out from underneath a counter and sat in front of her. "What types of things?"

"My cover in Russia was to infiltrate K-Directorate and appear to be willing to do certain jobs for them.  Assassinations and car bombings were the usual.  They had to show that they were powerful in the Russian underground."

Diana shuddered as she thought about her actions in the past. Patrick had assured her it had to be done, and that the people she'd killed were criminals--nothing more.  "They are still people!" she had shouted at him over and over again. __

"Part of my training with K-Directorate was with a man named Nikolai Ludin. He was their enforcer.  He taught me every thing I know now about car bombs and assassinations. He showed me how to use Diazepam. If you are standing still for a very long time, an average person will start to twitch. Hands will start to shake, and you will start to shift your weight some.  It's a natural reaction.  Diazepam slows that reaction.  It allowed us to be able to stand still for a long period of time and take a clean shot." 

"So, why do you need it here? You're planning on acting like a sniper?"

"I just have some unfinished business," she said as she stood up from the chair.  She started over to the table where the pills were laying, but Jacques beat her to them. He took them from the table and tossed them in the trash. 

"No," he said looking back at her. "You're going to get yourself killed. If you need to go away for awhile to decompress, do that, but I won't let you do something that you'll most assuredly regret."

"You know I'll find another way, Jacques.  I always do."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said as he turned to face her. "Diana, give me your word about something?"

She nodded for him to continue.

"Promise me that you will take a break. I don't want to read about Elizabeth Aldermen dying in a foreign country."

"Jacques, you know I can't do that. I just can't forget what happened."

He took her hand in his. "I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to walk away this time. I'll figure something out, and we can go from there."

Diana looked at him and sighed.  "Jacques, if you promise to keep me informed-"

"I promise," he said as squeezed her hand. "I swear, you are becoming more like your parents every day. You got your mother's looks, and Maurice's stubborn attitude."

She blushed at the compliment, and hugged him. "I'm going to miss you, Jacques," she whispered, fighting the tears that pricked at her eyes.

"I will see you again, Diana," he said returning her hug. He looked at his watch. "You have about four hours before your flight leaves.  You should get out of here."

She stepped back and smiled sadly at him.  Without saying a word, she turned and left.

****

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said to the cab driver.  "You'll be here?" she asked, as she got of the vehicle, careful to keep her accent in place.

"For more money I will be," he said, looking her over.  

She reached in her back pocket, and pulled out some of the money Jacques had given her.  "I'll be back in a few minutes. This should cover the meter." She handed the bills to the cab driver. 

"You know that this is closed to the public," the driver said pointing a sign on a gate.

She looked at her watch. "It's after six. I don't think anyone will be here." She handed him more money. "Besides, I won't tell if you won't."

The cab driver pocketed the money and looked at his meter. "Fine, whatever you want, lady."

"Thanks," she said over her shoulder and she walked towards the observatory.  She wanted one last look at the city that had brought her so many happy memories.

***

She smiled as she leaned against the railing that overlooked the Los Angeles skyline. The sun had started to set and the memories of her first year had come back.  She had initially resisted coming to work for the CIA in Los Angeles after her training.  While New Orleans was a big city, she had preferred the slower pace of the Big Easy.  She'd been in L.A. for six months and hating it until she met Michael at one of the many seminars that the Agency made new agents attend.

She had been sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, pouring over her explosives manual, when she'd heard someone approach her. She'd tensed and waited_._

_"Excuse me, are you Diana Rochelle?" the voice behind her had asked cautiously as if he were afraid of her response.  She had gotten the reputation very quickly of being difficult to deal with.  _

_"Yes, I am," she said quietly as she continued to look at the manual.  She spoke slowly to hide her telling southern accent.  People who didn't know her took her as being slow-witted because of it._

_He placed an employee pass down next to her.  "I found this in the hallway. I figured you would need it."_

_She reached into her pocket, and realized that she had lost it. Turning around to face him, she caught her breath, as she looked him over. Tall, dark hair, and a blue Oxford.  She'd always loved a man in a blue Oxford.  A warm blush came to her face as she saw him return her gaze.  "Thanks," she mumbled, and looked down at her feet.  _

_"You're from New Orleans, right?"_

_"Yeah, I am. Why?"_

_"Well, there's a new restaurant in town that I've been wanting to try, and they supposedly serve authentic New Orleans dishes."_

_She couldn't stop the chuckle that came out.  "Authentic New Orleans food? In Los Angeles?  Sorry to tell you this, but food from there can't be duplicated."_

_He sat down next to her and smiled. "Maybe you should prove their claim wrong.  Let's go try it out tonight."_

_"Moving a little fast, aren't you?  I don't even know your name," she said. She had noticed him during her first month in L.A. when she had seen him talking to another dark haired man, an Agent Weiss, she remembered from her orientation._

_He held out his hand. "I'm Michael Vaughn.  And for the record, I'm not moving too fast, you've been here six months and you haven't even seen the city yet."_

_Diana smiled in response. "Have you been spying on me, Agent Vaughn?"_

_"Call me Michael, and I wouldn't call it spying. I would call it observing."_

_"Okay, Michael," she said, laughing.  "We can call it 'observing'. Whatever lets you sleep well at night." Still feeling the wide smile on her face, she blushed again and looked down at her feet._

_"So, is after work okay?" he asked quietly._

_"Okay for what?"_

_"Dinner.  At that restaurant."_

_"Oh," she said.  "Yes, I suppose that it's okay."_

_"Great. I'll wait for you in the lobby after work, Agent Rochelle." _

_"Call me Diana," she said quickly and sounding more eager than she intended._

"Okay, Diana.  I'll see you after work."  He stood up and walked away.  Diana watched as he made his way through the crowd, and smiled to herself.  "Maybe L.A. won't be so bad after all."

Diana pulled the necklace she'd been wearing from underneath her shirt. She rubbed her finger across the small gem on the engagement ring that Michael had given her. A wry smile spread on her face as she realized that her old friend had been right:  "Leaving again without fixing this would be a bad idea."

As she took one last look at the city, she froze as she heard someone moving towards her.  She moved towards a hammer that one of the construction people had left on the ground.  

She leaned down to pick it up and stopped when she heard a gun cock back.  

"I know you aren't armed, Diana, so please let's not have any trouble," the man said behind her.

"How did you find me?"

"During our late night conversations, you'd mentioned that you'd always come here to clear your mind."  He paused and then mocked, "During those horrible years when you parents had forced you to attend UCLA.  It was one of the things that I remember about you so vividly. Put the hammer down, Diana."

She cursed herself for being so open with him, especially after they had to spend ten hours in the stagnant Brazilian heat, going after the latest leak in K-Directorate, a Viktor Chekov.  Her grip on the hammer grew tighter.

"Diana. Please.  Your Agent Vaughn isn't here to save you this time. Put it down."

Letting it drop to the ground, she turned to face the person holding the gun.

"I thought you would've gone back to St. Petersburg by now, Nikolai.  You really should go back, and I'll forget that you attacked me this afternoon." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Trust me when I say that you'd rather I did forget."

He kept the gun trained at her head and smiled. "Always with the threats.  Your intimidation methods never worked on me.  Where's the disk and money, Diana?"

"For the love of God, Nikolai, I don't know what you're talking about.  What money and what disk?" she asked.  She wondered if he was after the same disk that had gotten her friends killed.

"The disk from the operation in Barcelona.  Patrick and I made a deal.  Now, my money is missing, along with that disk."

Diana blinked twice, and stepped back. "You and Patrick? A deal?  What-what are you talking about?" She shut her eyes and shook her head.  Patrick wasn't a double. Not Patrick.

Nikolai put his gun in his holster. "Right after you had me arrested, Patrick came to visit me. We discussed my crimes, and the prison time I was facing.  I then asked about you. Even though you were CIA, I still thought you were a good agent. You fooled me for two years."

"I'm flattered," she said, anger coursing through her veins.

He ignored her.  "You see even then, Diana, Patrick had what you Americans call 'a thing' for you.  He had mentioned in passing how amazing you were. He'd always get this look about him when you came up in conversation, and it was so easy to get him to turn."

"You're lying," she said, stepping towards him. "Patrick would never become a double agent.  It wasn't in his character."

"Am I, Diana?  After St. Petersburg, how often did you find yourselves not succeeding, as you should have?  How many times did you find yourself getting to the intel a moment too late?"

Diana felt sick to her stomach.  She thought back to the operations before Barcelona.  At the time, she'd considered the few shootouts that the team had as par for course. No one was ever seriously hurt, and they'd continue on as planned.

"And the team?" 

"According to Patrick, they were expendable.  His ultimate goal was to have you, and mine was to gain the upper hand against the Alliance. I gave him the idea of setting you up, Diana, and he carried it out. I'm sure that by now, you've seen the pictures of you and me in Budapest.  All it took was a little prodding from me, an offer of a new identity, and he was working for K-Directorate.  He's made you appear to be the double, when it had been him the whole time," he said as he straightened out his jacket. 

She ran her hand over her hair, trying to piece together the events of the past years.  Patrick had always been a little too pushy for her, trying to mix business with pleasure, but he got the job done.  There had been a few times that she'd even told him to back off, and while he appeared angry about it, he never brought it up again.

"And you think I have this disk and money?" she asked, her voice sounding defeated. 

"Who else could have it? You two were close, Diana. Maybe you found out about his duplicity and killed him for it, and now you are the one with the upper hand," he said, taking his gun out of his holster. "You understand that this is nothing personal; it's the nature of the business that we're in.  I'll give you until five to tell me what I need to know." __

"I've already told you, Nicky, I don't know what you're talking about. Regardless of our affiliations, you know I'm a person of honor, and I would never lie to you."

"You did that for two years, Diana, and now, because you have a gun in your face, you want to talk about honor?" 

"Nikolai, please," she said, pleading with her eyes. "I swear to you, I don't know what you're talking about."

He cocked the gun. "You have until three."

She began to answer when she heard a high-pitched noise.  She dropped to the ground, and rolled over.  Waiting a minute, she called out to Nikolai.  "Vy projadke?"

"Nikolai?" she hissed, scooting over to him. "Are you okay?"

A gasp caught in her throat as she turned him over. "Oh, God," she whispered.  She ripped off her jacket arm and pressed the cloth into a gapping wound in Nikolai's shoulder. As she looked him over, she noticed a gash over his left eye.   "You hold on, and I'll get us out of here."

Keeping her body low to the ground, she started to move towards the entrance of the observatory, looking for any sign of another person in the area.  As she reached the edge of the gate, she saw her cab waiting.

"Hey," she hissed, hoping not to give her position away.  "Hey!" she said again, her voice louder.  The driver didn't respond.  "Son of a bitch," she muttered, as she stood up straighter from her position. She looked around her twice, and rushed towards the waiting vehicle.  "Look," she said, quickly catching her breath. "I need your cell phone.  There's someone hurt back there and—" She looked at the man, whose head was turned away from her.

She bent down and looked closer at the driver. "Did you hear me? I said I need your cell phone."

Growing impatient, she reached into the open window and grabbed his shirt collar. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but—"

A wave of nausea washed over her as the driver's head lolled in her direction. She looked at his neck and saw a thin red line across it, blood seeping from the wound to soak his collar.  His tongue was swollen and hanging out of his mouth.   

She opened the door and reached into the vehicle, trying to find a cell phone. She grabbed the radio, and threw it down in disgust as she realized that it had been smashed.  She reached across the cold body and cringed at the unnatural coolness of the driver's hand.  As her eyes raked over the crowded confines of the taxi, her eyes settled on the man's face.  His lips were tinged a pale blue and his vacant eyes appeared to focus on her as they pleaded with her, damned her.

She staggered away from the doorway and stood up to look for a pay phone.  Seeing one at the end of the parking lot, she sprinted towards it.  But as her fingers brushed against the handle of the phone, another high-pitched sound rang out, and she fell to the ground. 

Pain pulsated through her body and blurred her sight as she tried to sit up.  Reaching behind her, Diana's fingers closed around the slender body of a dart sticking out of her shoulder blade.

Gasping for breath, she winced as she pulled it out.  When she tried to stand up, another sound rang out and pain coursed through her calf muscle, knocking her onto her back.  She blinked her eyes and tried to move.  

"Don't try to get up again," a distorted voice said from behind her. "I don't want to hurt you."

Her eyes rolled around, and she felt herself losing consciousness.  "Who are you?" she asked her voice sounding groggy.

Taking deep breaths, she attempted to will herself to keep her eyes open. "Who are you?" she called out again, her eyes searching the night.

"Diana, I've missed you so much," the voice said, standing above her.  He took his mask off and bent down next to her. "How have you been?"

Blinking a few times, she tried to get her eyes to focus.  A sense of dread filled her as the face became clear. "P-Patrick?"

He brushed the hair out of her face and smiled, as he looked her over. "Did you miss me?"

****

A/N: Per usual, thanks to Robin for the constant encouragement, and the beta for this story. It's been a wild ride, and I can't tell you how much I do appreciate you sticking with me and this story from its inception.  Thanks also to all of you who are still reading this story. I apologize for the sporadic updates. The final parts will be up in the next week. Thanks to all of you in the Alias fandom who have been supportive of everyone in one form or another. Thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

"Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com or jch0578@yahoo.com

Feedback: Yes

Distribution: Cover Me, Alias Uncovered, and aliasfanfiction list. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Um. If I owned any parts of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin, Agent Lareby, and Patrick Williams are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Action/Adventure, General

A/N: This is the final chapter and epilogue, folks. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me with this fic in one shape or another.  Big sloppy thanks to Robin for sticking by me with this fic from the very beginning. You have no idea how much it means.  

*****

Vaughn paced the interior of his office, the pictures of Diana and Nikolai on his desk.  "What is going on?" he said aloud to no one in particular.  He looked at the photographs again, trying to see if he could notice some clue that would tell him that Diana wasn't sleeping with the enemy.  He frowned as he saw a picture of her hand on Nikolai's cheek and smiling up at him--a gesture she usually reserved for people she cared about.

He sat down at his desk and looked at Diana's open file. He smiled slightly as he saw a picture of her taken her first year with the CIA. Her hair had been longer, and there had been more innocence in her eyes. 

"You should do that more often," he said as he watched her from across the dinner table.

_"What's that?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine._

"Smile," he answered.

"What happened to you, Diana?" he murmured as he glanced at her picture taken when she was brought in. Her hair was shoulder length, and her eyes had hardened, and he could see the stress behind them.

_"Can you tell me about the relationship with Nikolai Ludin?"_

_"It's classified."_

Reading over her file, he thought back to their argument from the night before. Her eyes had flashed with anger when he told her that he suspected her as well.  _Was it all an act?  She could fool the best of them with her different aliases and dialects.  It was one of the many reasons why the Agency had used her in various undercover operations.  He wanted to believe that Diana wouldn't betray him or her country, but she had been gone for five years, and with her abilities it could be done.  _

"Excuse me, Agent Vaughn?"

He looked up from his file.  "Have you found her yet?" he asked the young agent, careful to keep his voice even.  

"Not yet. I did, however, hear from my friend with the LAPD.  They got a call last night regarding a taxi driver and an injured man at the observatory.  The taxi driver was dead at the scene, but the other man is still alive."

Vaughn felt a spark of hope "The observatory?"  He'd taken Diana there on one of their first dates.  He stood up from his desk and put his jacket on. "And this other man?  Did anyone get information from him?"

"No, he's not saying who he is or who shot him, but he's speaking in heavily accented English; sounds like he could be Russian.  My friend said that if you want to talk to him, they have him at Queen of Angels hospital."

He grabbed the keys from his desk and rushed out of his office.

****

Diana woke up with start, and moaned as she tried to move her arms.  "Try not to move too much, you could break your arm," her former leader said from behind her.   She hung her head forward, and tried to clear her mind.  "You died in Barcelona, Patrick.  I saw you die," she mumbled, still feeling the effects of the drug. "I felt your pulse," she said weakly. "You were dead."

"One of the many things I observed about you, Diana, is that sometimes you were too quick. You took what you saw at face value, and moved on.  I counted on that flaw and you came through, just as I predicted."

Her head rolled around again, and she felt sick to her stomach.  "What did you give me?" 

"Just a sedative," Patrick said as he pulled a chair from the table and sat in front of her. "You should be grateful, Diana; if I hadn't come along when I did, Nikolai would've killed you."

_Nikolai. The last thing she remembered was seeing him on the ground, unconscious. Fighting for different sides would forever keep them from being more than adversaries, but she still respected him.  She brought her head up slowly and glared at her former friend.  "Let me out of here, and I'll show you how grateful I am."_

He took a knife from a leather holster hanging from his belt and ran the edge along her jawbone. She didn't flinch.   "And give you the chance to kill me?  Sorry, but I can't do that."  He re-sheathed his knife and stood up from his chair.  "Nikolai was always so full of himself.  That asshole thought he was the one in control in our agreement, but I played him, just like I did you.  I must admit, Diana, you did better than I thought you would; you got out of Chile just before I could get to you.  You did a lot of damage to Diego though.  Poor guy was really no use to me after that."

She knew that by the smug look he had on his face, she must've have shown her shock. "Diana, I can find you anywhere, if I so see it fit.  Always remember that."

Shock, disbelief, and hatred flowed through her as she continued to look at Patrick.  Her left eye twitched and her head rolled back.  She felt another wave of nausea coming on.  

"You should rest, Diana," he said as he walked towards the door.  "I'll be back in a few hours, and we can catch up then."

****

"I hope you're comfortable," Vaughn said. "This place is at the top of its class. Can I get you anything?"  He looked at the man lying in the hospital bed, and waited for him to say something.  

He dropped a manila envelope on top of the blanket. "I know that you have information regarding Agent Rochelle.  She's missing, and I need your help in locating her." He waited for a response as Nikolai opened the envelope and the pictures fell out.  The other man smirked and looked out the window.

Feeling exasperated, Vaughn stood in front of his bed. "I know at some point you and Diana were very close.  The smiles in those pictures are natural, not false.  Did she do this to you?" he asked, feeling sick for even thinking it.

Vaughn watched as Nikolai picked up the pictures again and looked them over. "You think that Agent Rochelle did this to me? Interesting."

"Help me, Mr. Ludin, and I'll help you.  It won't take long for the government to notice that one of K-Directorate's agents is in the country, and I'm sure that they'll want to talk with you.  I can delay them some, but I will only do that if you provide me with the information that I am looking for.  I've seen the damage that Diana can do when provoked.  You attacked her yesterday, which would have given her motive to return the favor."

"The incident yesterday was unfortunate, but as Agent Rochelle would tell you, it is what I do.  My integration methods are extreme but they produce results," Nikolai said weakly.  "No, Diana didn't do this to me. It isn't her way."

"What do you mean, 'isn't her way'?" 

"You really don't know her at all, do you, Agent Vaughn?" he asked with a small chuckle.  "Diana was sent to infiltrate K-Directorate and weaken it from within.  When your country sent Diana to Russia, they sent a woman who had a mind like a sponge.   She soaked up everything she could about the Russian culture and K-Directorate.  It took a year for my employers to contact her, and they sent me to verify her and her story.  She was so eager, Agent Vaughn, to prove herself to K-Directorate and to me.  I trained her to be the best agent that they had ever seen, and she never disappointed me.  She knows everything that is needed to be an effective assassin.  Her actions have relieved the Directorate of numerous leaks, and strengthened our hold in the Russian underground.  Of course, that wasn't her objective, but in some ways, I'd like to think that she enjoyed it."

With contempt flowing in his veins, Vaughn stared at the man. Nikolai talked about Diana so casually that it made him ill.  Although Vaughn had doubts about her allegiance, he knew she wasn't a cold-blooded killer.   "Or is she?" a small voice asked, taunting him.   

"She saved my life numerous times, and I trusted her implicitly.  Believe me when I say that Diana isn't one to attack a person from behind. She's up front with her actions, always has been.  Now, Patrick Williams--"

"You know Patrick Williams?" Vaughn demanded as he tried to hide his surprise.

Nikolai winced took as he took a deep breath. "I know him quite well.  Diana now knows him as well.  He was the one that set her up, the one who killed her team, and the one who did this to me."

"Patrick Williams is dead, Mr. Ludin. We have evidence of his death in Barcelona, and I've read the report."

"No, Agent Vaughn, Patrick Williams is very much alive. I was able to reach the entrance of the observatory as he took Diana, and now that she knows the truth, Agent Vaughn, she will kill him," he said confidently.

"Agent Rochelle isn't a killer."

"Maybe not the Diana you remember, but the Diana I know will kill him the first chance she gets."

****

She winced as she heard the metal door scrape across the floor, and watched Patrick as he came into the room.  "How's your head?" His voice was almost kind.

She continued to glare at him, and attempting to mask her pain. In her mind, she tried to think back to the signs she must've missed with Patrick. How many times had she ignored his aggressiveness and said it came with the territory?  The thoughts made her head pound even harder.  It had been hurting ever since she'd awakened earlier.  "I'm fine, Agent Williams."

"Is it 'Agent Williams' now?  I thought we were closer than that Diana."  Chuckling, he pulled out a chair and walked over towards her.

He sat down in front of her. "Diana, aren't we closer than that?" 

"I thought so," she muttered as she tried to push down the nauseous feeling that was becoming as harsh as her current headache. "Why'd you do it, Patrick? Why the betrayal? If this has something to do with me, let me--"

"Did you think it was about you, Diana?" Patrick said as he smiled at her. "I'll admit that at first it was. I had planned to take you in Chile.  The information contained in my reports have shown you to be a double, and you wouldn't be able to show your face on U.S. soil again.  I knew that if I told you the right story and under the circumstances, you'd come with me.  What I didn't count on was this."  Patrick reached inside the jacket he was wearing and pulled three photographs out. 

"You just couldn't stay away from him, could you?" he yelled as he tossed them at her. 

Diana's heart stopped as photos of her and Michael fell to the floor.  There were pictures of them together on his patio, and a picture of them together in bed.  She hadn't been able to get enough of him that night.  Hot tears pricked her eyes as she thought back to how happy she'd been when she was with him.  "How did you get these?"

"The magic of a telephoto lens.  Again, you weren't paying attention," he said with a smile.  He leaned over and picked up the pictures from the floor.   "I can't believe you would do this to me, Diana.  Sleeping with him was the worst thing that you could have done, and for that I can't forgive you."

"Forgive me?" Diana said with a laugh. "That's interesting.  Why did you kill the team, Patrick?  They had nothing do with this."  She shook her head as she felt the drugs starting to wear off.

"Are you expecting me to say that I had a hard childhood, and that I hate my mother?  Sorry to disappoint you, but it was simple case of them being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kellie was the first one to arrive at the safe house, and she saw me talking with the agents from K-Directorate.  One of their agents killed her, and the rest of the team were like dominoes.  The look of surprise on their faces when I pulled the trigger was one that I'll never forget.  They actually begged for me not to do it. Poor kids," he said, chuckling as he stood up.

Diana felt guilt wash over her as she watched Patrick walk around the room like he owned the world.  If she had just paid attention to her surroundings, had listened to her instincts about Barcelona, she would have figured out the truth about Patrick. And afterward, she should have pinpointed what it had been exactly that had made those instincts scream.  She'd known something was wrong, but she'd been so damned concerned with getting back to the CIA, and seeing Michael again, that she ignored the most basic surveillance techniques. 

"They'll figure out that you're alive, Patrick. Vaughn will find me, and then you and I are going to have a little talk," she said with a cocky grin.  

Patrick stopped pacing and glared at her.  He unsheathed his knife and rushed towards her.  She held her breath as he pressed the sharp edge against her neck. "Do you remember your job into Sao Paulo? They were only able to find Alexi's gold teeth after the fire was put out.  Vaughn will be if he finds that lovely necklace you're wearing."

****

As Vaughn pulled up to the warehouse he marveled at the similarities of this place to where he and Sydney usually met.  He could understand why Diana would want to meet there; it was close to the sea, and although it was in an industrial park, it was peaceful.  Nikolai had bartered for an hour about the conditions of his release before he'd given the location to him.

"Look for the first place that they had their first mission discussion."

"And where was that, Mr. Ludin?" Vaughn asked tersely, trying to keep his voice even.

"A warehouse in Ventura, California."

"How do you know that, Mr. Ludin?" Vaughn asked as he flipped through Diana's file. 

Nikolai chuckled. "You have your sources, Agent Vaughn, and I have mine."

Resisting the urge to ask who his source was, Vaughn continued with his line of questioning.  "Do you have an address?"

"Unfortunately, I do not. Ventura is all I know.  My source was only able to get me the location, the address would have been revealed soon."

He stared at the darken warehouse and looked for any sign of movement.  He cursed himself for thinking that Diana was capable of being a double agent.  He adjusted his Kevlar vest and pressed on his earpiece.

"Lareby? Is everything a go?"

"Yes, sir.  I've checked the schematics of this building for all points of exit. If Patrick Williams tries to leave, I'll get him."

"Any sign of him yet?"

"Nothing so far, but we are still scanning the area."

Vaughn closed his eyes, and he could see Devlin ordering him not to go after Diana and Patrick, warning him that it was against protocol, and they had people who were trained for recovery missions.  And after the team was finished with a mission involving a K-Directorate agent who wanted to turn in Jack Bristow, they would go after Patrick.  Knowing in his gut that Diana didn't have time to wait, Vaughn had laid out the plan several times to him, explaining that all he would go in get Diana, avoid as much confrontation as possible, and bring Patrick in.  Devlin wouldn't budge, reminding him that if Patrick Williams was involved in Diana's disappearance and a double agent, they needed to approach him with caution.   After realizing that every other available agent was currently unqualified or unable to join him, Devlin reluctantly agreed to just send Agent Lareby. 

"Keep me informed," Vaughn said as he pressed on his earpiece

"Copy that."

"And if anything happens to her," Vaughn said to himself as he got out of the car.  "I'll never forgive myself."

***

Diana spit out some blood and looked angrily up at Patrick. "Hitting me while I'm tied up, Patrick?  Let me go and we can trade punches," she said with a wink. "It'll be fun."  She pulled her arms slightly and felt her rope give a little.  She winced as she felt her shoulder tighten up.

"As always, Diana, you have a witty remark."  He brushed her hair out of her face and sat back down in front of her.

He looked over her shoulder at a monitor and smiled. "I don't believe it.  He got here a little later than I anticipated, but better late than never I always say.  Diana, it's been fun reliving all our memories together, but I must run.  I'll be sure to give Vaughn a kiss goodbye for you before I blow his head off," he said as he stood up from his chair.  

She lunged at him, and took pleasure in him jumping back a little bit.  "Stay away from him, Patrick," she said, straining at her restraints again. "Do whatever you want to me, but stay away from Vaughn."

"Don't worry, Diana. I'm not going to hurt Michael much; he's just target practice to me."

****

Vaughn walked into the warehouse with his gun drawn and looked for any signs of movement.  As he looked over inside the building, he tried to imagine Diana getting her mission specs from Patrick, running her training exercises.  As he opened the first door, various scenarios ran through his head about Diana's whereabouts.  He wondered if she was still alive, and if Patrick would hurt her.

"Diana's an amazing woman, Vaughn," Patrick said as they watched her in the shooting gallery. "I've tried to talk her into going into black ops.  We could use someone with her talent in the division."

Vaughn shook his head. "And I'm sure that she's already told you, Williams, she isn't interested going into that division."

"Is it her that isn't interested, Vaughn, or is it you?"

Vaughn looked at Diana who was taking off her glasses and her earplugs, and smiled as she looked back at him. "I'm not going to pretend that I liked the idea of you approaching Diana about black ops, but she is her own person, Williams, and if she's telling you no, then no it is."

"If she were with me, Vaughn, I'd support her. You on the other hand are holding her back."

He took a deep breath and turned to face him. Diana had told him to stop being an easy target for Patrick. "Look, Patrick, I don't know what your problem could be but—"

"How are my favorite two men in the CIA?" Diana said cheerfully as she walked into the room.  "Is everything okay?" she asked.

Vaughn smiled and turned the face the woman he'd been in love with for over a year.  He felt as if Diana was 'The One' for him, and he couldn't wait to ask her to marry him.   "Everything's fine, Diana.  We're just having a discussion.  Right, Patrick?"  He knew that she hated it when they argued.  

Patrick stared at him, and then smiled at Diana. "Yes, everything's fine, Diana."

Vaughn looked around to see if any of their superiors were watching. He then took her hand in his and pulled her close to him. "You were fantastic." As he hugged her, he looked over her shoulder and saw Patrick glaring at them. 

He hugged her tighter and smiled as she returned it.  Patrick continued to stare at them with a look that would have put them both in an early grave.  He made a promise to himself talk to Devlin about his concerns.

"I'm so sorry that I doubted you, Diana," Vaughn mumbled.  He walked out of the room, and continued his search.

****

Diana continued to strain against her restraints and winced as she felt her shoulder tighten up again. "Come on. Come on," she mumbled as she the ropes loosen.  She stood up and rubbed her wrists.  

"It's been a long time since I've been in this room," she muttered as she took the chair that Peter had been sitting in and pulled it towards the large metal door. "I wonder if my failsafe is still working," she said as she stood up on the chair and began to feel around the doorframe.  Smiling, she found a small switch, and lifted it up.  She jumped off of the chair and stepped back to let the door open.  

As it opened, she crouched down and waited to see if Patrick was standing there.  Not seeing or hearing anything, she started out of the door.  Turning down the hallway, she tried to push down the nagging thought that this was too easy.  She heard a loud click a few footsteps further down the passageway. Recognizing the sound, she dropped to the ground as shots rang out over her head in a crescent formation.  

"The son of a bitch rigged the hallway," she said, half-laughing, but mostly pissed off.   She placed her hands over her head and crawled across the corridor towards a closed door.  Reaching the frame of the door, she pressed herself as close as possible to it, and kicked it open.  She ducked even lower as the bullets shot over her, and she rolled into the darkened room.

Finding a switch on the wall, Diana squinted as fluorescent lights came on.  She let out a low whistle as she looked at the interior of the room. Different guns lay against the wall with a layer of dust and cobwebs   
covering them. She ran her hands over the concrete arch in the middle of the room and smiled as she spotted a familiar box in the corner. "I'm surprised he hasn't been in here yet," she said as she walked over to a chained wooden box marked with her nickname, 'Lizzie'.  Taking a pipe from the floor, she swung it hard at the rusted lock, gasping as she felt pain radiate from her shoulder blade.   Grunting, she picked the heavy pipe and swung it against the lock again. As the lock hit the floor, she tensed and waited to see if anyone heard her. Feeling confident that she was alone, she removed the chain from around the box, and opened it. 

A slight smile played on her face as she looked over the contents of the box. "Just as I remembered it," she said as she pulled out a gun and a knife. She hit the bottom of the box with the palm of her hand and pulled it up, revealing a pair of night vision goggles, a silencer, and three magazines of ammunition. She loaded one magazine into her gun, and quickly screwed the silencer on. Rushing over to the door, she put the goggles on, and turned the light off. Hoping that five years in a box hadn't damaged her equipment, she flipped a switch on the goggles. She blinked several times as her eyes tried to focus in the low blue light. Patrick had teased her about being over-prepared, telling her that she wouldn't be back here, so there wasn't a need to keep all of her equipment in the warehouse.  
  
"I'm glad I didn't listen to you, you son of a bitch," she muttered as she rushed over to the doorway.  She pressed herself into the wall, and located the motion detector located in the corner of the hallway.  Lying down on the floor, she hoped her hunch was right and Patrick hadn't set the detector to pick up stray animals that would venture into the warehouse.  She moved slowly careful not to make any sudden movements that would set the motion detector off again.  As she reached the end of the hallway, she stood up, turned, and ran towards front of the warehouse.

***

Patrick pulled at the wires, and checked the timer against his watch.   "Right on time," he mumbled picking up a duffel bag at his feet.  He chuckled as he heard the automatic gun firing faintly in the background.  "Didn't see that one coming, did you, Diana?  All you had to do was to stay away from Vaughn."  He walked further towards the other column and placed another cartridge against it.  Standing up, he strolled over towards the right of the room and rolled a liquid filled canister towards the center.  He reached in the black duffel bag, pulled out the last C-4 cartridge, and affixed it to the canister. He smirked as he thought back the look that Diana had given him when she realized that he had been alive the whole time.  "So fucking blind, Diana, and it was right in front of you the whole time," he said, relishing the memory. Standing up, he kicked away the now empty bag, picked up the handgun that had been lying in front of him, and calmly walked out of the room. 

***

Vaughn stopped as he heard a faint firing sound coming from the floor underneath him.  He pressed on his earpiece. "Lareby, are you hearing this?"  Static answered him.  He looked around and noticed that the walls had been covered in some sort of substance that was preventing the radio signal from his earpiece from escaping the building.  Frustrated, he yanked it out, and noticed a door at the end of the hallway.  Sprinting over to it, he opened it and started down the stairs.  As he continued down, he saw someone dart around the right corner.

"Diana!" he hissed as he reached the bottom and ran down the corridor. Reaching the end, he turned right and left, hoping for some sort of sign of her.  

Vaughn started down the left corridor as he heard a voice behind him.  "Well, if it isn't the White Knight here to save his damsel in distress.  Of course, the damsel could easily defeat her knight, but you didn't think about that.  I knew you wouldn't.  Drop the gun."

Vaughn's grip on his weapon tightened as he heard Patrick chamber a semi-automatic weapon.

"Careful, Vaughn.  I'll kill you before you'll be able to get one shot in, and besides I wouldn't want to ruin the look on your face as you realize that I'm the better man," Patrick continued to mock. "Drop the gun."

He grunted as Patrick pressed the tip of the gun into his back. "Where's Diana?"

Vaughn could hear the smirk in other man's voice. "Dead.  She didn't even put up a fight, Vaughn.  You weakened her; she was always weak around you."

Vaughn felt his heart stop. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the last time he'd seen her.  A sad smile came to his face as he remembered the smile she given him the morning before she was attacked, then he tried to imagine her face as she fought Patrick, and a smirk came to his face. "How badly did she kick your ass before you killed her?"

"Shut up," Patrick growled as he hit him with the butt of his gun, causing him to fall to his knees and drop his gun.

"All you had to do was to stay away from her, you son of a bitch," he yelled as Vaughn stood and faced him.

"She needed my help, Patrick, and I was able to give it to her," he retorted as he gingerly touched the back of his head.  He grimaced as he felt warm blood at the base of his neck.

"And give it to her you did, Vaughn," Patrick sneered as he brought the gun to Vaughn's face. "You ruined her, Michael.  If you had left her alone—"

"Left her alone?  For you?"  Vaughn couldn't help but chuckle. "Diana never saw you in that light, Patrick. She would tell me all the time, how much she respected you, and how much she aspired to be as good as you.  There were never any romantic feelings on her end." 

"Really?" Patrick sneered as he put down the gun on a box. "So, I'm assuming she hadn't gotten the chance to tell you about Budapest yet.  Does she still have that little tattoo on the inside of her thigh, Vaughn?"  Vaughn glared at Patrick.  "I'm assuming that by your look that you were unaware of our previous dealings.  It's interesting how she always left certain things out, isn't it?"

He lunged towards him, and jumped back as Patrick pulled a gun from behind his back. "Nice try but as you can see I'm always prepared," he said as he swung the butt of the gun and struck him.  As he started losing consciousness, he felt Patrick's hands removing his vest.

***

Diana watched from the corner as Vaughn and Patrick argued.  Anger coursed through her as she heard Patrick tell Vaughn about Budapest.  "Don't believe him, Michael," she whispered to herself as she saw Vaughn features changed. "It never happened."

She jumped and knocked over a box when she saw Patrick strike Vaughn on the temple.  Drawing her gun, she aimed for Patrick's head.  Her finger lightly touched the trigger, and she held her breath. "One shot and it'll be all over."   Looking at him standing there, she saw the man, the agent, she used to admire.  It was only for a second, but it was long enough.  Sensing her hesitation, Patrick yanked up Vaughn, blocking the clear view of she had of him.

"You're good, but I know that you won't take a shot with Vaughn in front of me," he yelled, straightening to full height, but making sure to keep Vaughn in front of him. 

"We can finish this, Diana. Me and you.  I'll let him go, if you deal with me alone."  Her grip on the gun didn't loosen. "Let's be smart, Diana," he continued to yell as he dragged Vaughn over towards the box where he had laid his gun.

Her finger touched the trigger again, and she looked through her sight.  She got ready to squeeze the trigger and gasped silently as Patrick let Vaughn fall to the ground and brought the gun to Vaughn's temple. "I'll kill him, and don't think for a minute that I won't."  Her finger still danced on the trigger as he brought out his other gun and pressed it to Vaughn's midsection.

If it had been anyone else, she would've pulled the trigger and hoped for the best.  The chances of him getting off a shot before her bullet him were slim, but there was a chance.  The man she had once trusted with her life held the man who could give her the normal life she craved in his hands.  She knew that she couldn't trust Patrick as far as she could throw him, but as she watched Patrick stroke the trigger of the gun he was holding into Vaughn's midsection, she took her finger off of the trigger. 

She laid her head against the wall as Patrick gathered Vaughn up. "It seems that you have made a good decision.  Diana, if you want to finish this and I know that you do, you know where to find me."

***

Vaughn woke with start and winced as he felt his arms yanked behind him.  He squinted as his eyes adjusted to dimly lit room. 

"Where am I?" he mumbled as he took a deep breath. He coughed as a metallic smell attacked his lungs.  

"One of the rooms that were used in her training sessions," Patrick said from an unseen part of the room. "This was apart of our search and rescue simulation.  It was the one part of Diana's training that she was never quite good at—she always put her target in front of her own life.  There is one way into this room, and while she was good at getting in, she was never good at getting out."

"She's alive?" he asked as his coughing intensified.  

"Diana is very much alive, Vaughn. She's always so predictable.  She'll come into this room with guns blazing to get you out of here, and you'll both die."

"She's not that predictable, Williams. You should know that more than anyone," he spit out as he tried to clear his lungs of the stench.

"Tell me something, Vaughn," Patrick said as he appeared out of nowhere and was right in front of him. "Does Diana still insist on being on top? I remember that she was always very aggressive in the bedroom."

He knew that Diana would never voluntarily sleep with Patrick.  While he'd been jealous of Patrick when they were younger, he'd gained enough wisdom over time to see that she truly had not looked at Patrick in that way.  He was an agent she admired; as a man, Patrick had not been noticed by her.  But the last twenty-four hours had made Vaughn realize how little he did know about her.  The Diana he knew was dead in some ways.   Vaughn glared up at Patrick and tried to move his arms. 

"You seem so surprised, Vaughn.  Did you expect her to be a nun while she was away?"

"No, but I expected her to pick someone better than you. Was she drunk when you took advantage or did she just have pity on you?"

Vaughn braced himself as Patrick drew the gun, cocked it back, and pressed it into his face.  "I could end this right now."

"Then do it," he grumbled as he felt his head become heavy again.

A small sigh of relief escaped his body as he heard Patrick uncock the gun.  "No, that'll be too easy. This pissing contest I'm having with you has been great, Michael, it's brought back a lot of memories, but if you'll excuse me, I have bigger fish to fry."

He started to shout a warning for Diana wherever she was that Patrick was setting her up when he felt a rough cloth come over his mouth. He started to choke as he felt the rag grow tighter.

"Can't have you ruining all my fun, Vaughn. You'll see her soon enough."

***

Diana ran through the passageway, stopping every few seconds to adjust her goggles.  She stopped and waited for any signs of Vaughn or Patrick. Hearing nothing, she turned and headed towards the area where she ran her training exercises with the rest of the team.

Using the infrared sights, she looked for any traps that wouldn't be noticeable to the naked eye.  Finding none, she rushed down the hallway towards the room that had been used during her last training session in the building. 

"Vaughn?" she whispered loudly as she stopped at the door.

Not hearing any sounds, she drew her gun and cracked open the door.  Her eyes swept over the room, looking for any sign of life.  She started to cough as a sharp metallic scent assaulted her lungs.  "Vaughn, are you in here?" 

As she turned to her left, a frightened feeling came over her when she saw Michael sitting with his head slumped over.  She cursed herself for not taking Patrick out when she had the chance. She ran over to him, hoping that she hadn't gotten there too late.

She bent down in front of him, placed the gun on the floor and grimaced as she saw the gash over his eye.  Placing her fingers on his neck, she let out a slow breath as she felt a sluggish but steady pulse.

"Vaughn," she said, patting his cheek. "Wake up. We have to get out of here before Patrick gets back." She took her knife she'd been holding out of its sheath and cut the ropes that had held his hands together. As she re-sheathed it, she gasped as his head slumped forward. 

"Come on, Vaughn," she said more urgently. "You have to wake up before he gets back.  I can't do this by myself."  She patted his cheek again, this time harder.  He mumbled incoherently.  

"Vaughn!" she shouted, worried.  "You HAVE to get up. I don't have much time; this whole place is wired to blow in ten minutes." She smacked his cheek. "Wake up!"

"Di-Diana?" he stuttered. "What are you doing here?" he mumbled, his eyes opening slowly.

"Yeah, it's me," she replied. "I'm going to get us out of this mess, Vaughn."  She picked the gun up from the floor, put it back in her waistband, and took his arm to place it around her shoulders.

She strained as she helped him stand up. "Can you walk?" she asked.

He shook his head and took his arm from around her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm good."

She nodded.  "We need to move; I'm not sure how long we have left.  The structure of the building has been laced with explosives, and we need to—" She stopped as she watched Vaughn's features change.  

She got ready to ask him what was wrong when she heard a noise from behind her.  "Vaughn, when I say move, you'll go to your right, and I'll fire," she said quietly.  She took the gun out of her waist and cocked it back.  "Move!" she shouted and turned to face her former friend with her weapon drawn.  

"I almost had you," he said with a wink. "Vaughn gave me away."

"Let him go."

"Sorry, but I can't do that."

"You're going to go back on your word, Patrick, and I thought that was beneath you," Diana said, sarcasm dripping from her words.  The grip on her gun tightened. "Vaughn isn't in this equation, Patrick. You wanted me and you've got me." A worried look crossed her face as she thought about the bomb. At her last check, they'd ten minutes left, and without her watch working she didn't know much time remained, and without her watch and the drugs slowing her usually reliable sense of time, she didn't know.

"Worried about the explosives?"  Patrick asked with a smirk on his face.  "You're probably thinking that you can kill me, save Vaughn, and you two can live happily ever after."

"What makes you think I can't?" 

She saw a flicker of uncertainty on Patrick's face.  As cocky as he was, he knew how good she was, or maybe he was remembering how many times she'd succeed on sheer stubbornness.  "You always were determined, Diana.  It was one of the things I loved about you."

"Love?  You've never understood that feeling," she spit out, anger flowing through her words.

She watched his face change. He wasn't the only one who knew the enemy well.  His anger was going to be her ally.  She'd reminded him time and time again to keep that anger in check, but he'd never listened.

He lunged at her, giving her the opening she needed. She spun and hit him center in the chest with the heavy boots she was wearing.  Grunting, he fell to the dirty floor.  She grabbed Vaughn's hand and raced out the door.  In his weakened state, he was slowing her down, but she kept urging him to keep going.  As they reached the opposite end of the corridor, she used her arm to warm him, indicating a trip wire across the floor.  It had been there since her early days, and almost everyone forgot it.

In his anger, Patrick would, too. They carefully stepped over it, and raced down the hall.  A few seconds later, a grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor told her that he'd forgotten the wire.  Avoiding the trigger for the automatic gun, she got Vaughn out the door.

The adrenaline rush was starting to wear off.  Vaughn leaned heavily on her as they walked out into the dark night.  Hearing the sound of approaching footfalls, Diana spun and aimed her gun.

"It's me!" Agent Lareby called as he skidded to a stop in front of them.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Did you come with him? Why weren't you there as backup for Agent Vaughn?"

"Calm down, Diana," Lareby said calmly as he looked her over. "Devlin ordered me to be here with Vaughn, but Vaughn wouldn't let anyone come in as backup.  He said that he could handle the situation himself."

"And he did a super job," she muttered. 

"Help him," she said as she strained with Vaughn leaning heavily on her. "He has a concussion."

"Vaughn?" she called to him as Lareby took him from her arms. "I have to go back inside."

Vaughn mumbled incoherently.  She looked at his eyes and realized that he was passing out again. She felt his pulse and let a slow sigh of careful relief.  

"Keep him awake while I go inside," Diana said as she rubbed Vaughn's cheek.

****

Diana walked into the warehouse with her gun at her side.  The adrenaline she felt earlier as she and Vaughn escaped was back. She paused to listen for any signs of Patrick.  She frowned as she remembered the rage in his eyes when she told him that she'd kill him with her bare hands if he came near her again.  Knowing that he had been watching her that night in Budapest with Alejandro had made her skin crawl.  The next day he'd apologized profusely for overstepping the boundaries that she had set down her first month in black ops.  For reasons she was having a hard time understanding now, she'd forgiven him. Accepted his apology. How had she been so blind?

"How could you be so stupid, Rochelle?" she muttered to no one in particular. "If I had paid attention, then the team wouldn't be dead." She knew in her mind that it wasn't her fault that her friends were murdered, but as memories of the happiness on Kelli's face when she talked about her younger sister's college achievements assaulted her, bitter tears formed in her eyes. As she reached the center of the big warehouse, she felt eyes on her.

She placed the gun on the floor in front of her and held her hands up.

"Patrick? I know that you're still here," she said as she turned in a circle in the room. "You said that you wanted to finish this, and here I am."

She tilted her head and waited.  The drug was almost complete out of her system, but she was still uncertain of the time.  She didn't have long before the bomb went off.  She felt the ground shake and looked up to see the columns start to crumble.  She fell to the ground as concrete started to fall.

"Patrick!" she shouted again as she stood up.  The dust from the concrete entered her lungs, and she started to cough.  She braced herself as she felt the floor shake again.  She turned and saw him standing right in front of her with that rage she remembered and a gun in his hand aimed at her midsection.

She held her hands up and narrowed her eyes at him. "A gun, Patrick? I thought we were better than that.  You used to tell me that killing your enemy with a gun was the easy way out, and you didn't believe in doing things the easy way. Why don't you put the gun down and we finish this like adults?"  

She braced herself as he brought the gun up and aimed it at her head.  "You know, Diana, you're right." He threw the gun on the floor, spun and kicked her square in the chest, causing her to fall to the floor.

She rolled over and stood up slowly taking deep breaths. Her lungs burned with the acrid air from the concrete.  "Is that the best you've got, Patrick?" she asked, mocking him.  She winced as she took another deep breath.  She played the rage card before and she hoped it would work again. "Your roundhouse has become weak."

"You stupid bitch," he growled as he came at her again with his fist drawn back.  She blocked his punch and hit him with an elbow to the face.  She jumped back as she felt the ground shake again. 

"You'll never get out of here alive, Diana," Patrick said as he stood up and gingerly touched his punctured lip.  "The structure of this building will go in a matter of moments, and I'm sure that the fire has already started."

A cold wave of fear washed over her. She looked at Patrick who was now smirking back at her. 

"Did you think I forgot about your fear of fire, Diana? That fear always paralyzed you."

She swallowed deeply and continued to glare at Patrick. The adrenaline she felt moments before was starting to leave her.  She knew that he was right; she'd had a great fear of fire since her parents had been killed, and he'd protected her from that fear many times.

She inhaled and smelled the faint odor of wood burning.  She smirked at him as she willed herself to speak. "If I die, I'm taking you with me. You shouldn't've killed the team, Patrick," she said, her voice showing determination. 

She frowned as Patrick started to clap. "That's the Diana I remember," he said. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd see her again."  He spun around fast and kicked her in the kidney causing her to fall to the floor with a loud grunt.  "While you're good, Diana, I'm still just a little bit better."

She rolled to the side as Patrick brought down the heavy boot he'd been wearing in an attempt to hit her in the throat.  Using her right leg, she swept it under him taking him off his feet, and she grabbed a pole that was lying by her.  She stood up to face him, and stepped back as she faced a gun being aimed at her.

"You said no guns, Patrick," she said as her grip on the pole tightened.  She took a deep breath and the smell of the smoke had grown stronger.

"I lied," he said with a smile and a tilt of his head. "Goodbye, Diana."

She lunged at him with the pole firmly in her hand, just before he squeezed the trigger.  The pole connected with his head, and she heard a loud crack from his neck as he fell to the floor.

She fell to the ground and gripped her midsection.  She cried out in pain as a wave of nausea came over her.  She'd been shot.

Struggling to breathe, she willed herself to sit up. "Get up, Diana," she muttered out loud as if her own voice could get her to move.  She winced as she looked at her hands, covered in her own blood.  "Get the fuck up, Diana!" she shouted to herself.  She strained to sit up as she heard the supports above her start to crack.  Leaning heavily against the wall, she struggled to stand up fully.  She threw her arm over her eyes to protect them from the growing dust from the rubble.  Seeing the doorway to the stairway where she and Vaughn had escaped earlier, she sprinted towards it, trying to keep the pain from crippling her.  As she reached the door, she yanked it open and started down the stairs.  

***

Vaughn struggled against the medics who tended to the gash over his head. "I have to go back in there!" he shouted into the oxygen mask that one of them had placed on him. "Why didn't you try to stop her?" he asked Lareby as he yanked the mask off of his face.  He glared at the outwardly anxious man, who had been standing nervously off to the side watching the now burning building.  

"I-I tried, Agent Vaughn, but Diana wouldn't listen.  She said that I had to stay out here with you, and you know how she could get," he said as he continued to look at the building.

Vaughn frowned as he thought about Lareby's comments.  Diana was at her stubborn when her mind was set on something. "That maybe true, Greg, but you still should've tried to stop her."  

Vaughn watched as Lareby continued to stare at the building.  Something about his comments didn't set well with Vaughn, but either the painkillers that had been given to him or the fear that Diana wouldn't make it out of the building alive prevented him from querying any further.  

***

Diana ran down the hallway, grimacing with every step towards the back of the warehouse.  She hoped that Patrick hadn't remembered to block the hidden exit.   She stumbled as a piece of wood fell in front of her.  As she struggled to stand again, the room started to spin. 

"No, No," she muttered. "Can't stop."   She stepped over the wood and continued down the hallway.  Sweat started to get into her eyes as she reached her destination. She moved boxes out of the way, and almost screamed when she found the door that could lead her to safety.  She looked the door over and tried to remember where the failsafe was.  Finding what she was looking for along the door jam, she lifted the switch and waited for the door to open.  A sharp pain ripped through her as she struggled to breath.  She looked over her shoulder and could see the fire inching towards her.  She looked back at the door, and it didn't move.  She examined it closer and noticed that a piece of metal had been jammed into a small crevice, preventing it from opening.  

Seeing a box that looked sturdy enough to hold her, she pushed it towards the door to help her gain leverage to move the piece of metal. She stepped gingerly on the box, and reached up to remove the metal.  As she stretched towards it, she felt the box start to give way under her weight.  "Just a little bit further," she gasped as the pain from her wound continued to grow.  As her fingers touched the metal, the box broke under her weight and she fell to the ground with her head hitting the floor hard and knocking her unconscious.


	14. Epilogue

"Recoil"

Author: Waterdancer aka AquarianLady

Email: jch114@hotmail.com or jch0578@yahoo.com

Feedback: Yes

Distribution: Cover Me, Alias Uncovered, and aliasfanfiction list. Anyone else please ask.

Disclaimer: Um. If I owned any parts of Alias, you'd know it. All Alias related material are the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, Touchstone TV, and anyone else who has a claim. Diana Rochelle, Nikolai Ludin, Agent Lareby, and Patrick Williams are mine.

Summary: A woman from Vaughn's past comes back

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Action/Adventure, General

A/N: This is the final chapter and epilogue, folks. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me with this fic in one shape or another.  Big sloppy thanks to Robin for sticking by me with this fic from the very beginning. You have no idea how much it means.  

***

Vaughn looked out his office window as he had for the past forty-eight hours, hoping that Diana would walk in and tell him that she had been in some government hospital recovering.  That she was sorry for worrying him. He knew that it was impossible that she was alive, but he'd always felt like anything was possible where she was concerned.  Except for maybe them. Maybe they had never been possible. 

After talking through the night with Jacques, he'd really started to wonder if he and Diana ever had a chance at a normal life.  He felt for her as Jacques recounted all her tales of her time in Russia.  She had become a killer for the Greater Good, and as much as he'd like to imagine that she hadn't changed, that she was still the same woman that he once felt that he would marry, he knew that it was a lie.  She wasn't the same woman anymore than he was the same man.  Life had changed them both. Maybe not for the better. 

"Vaughn?"  

He turned from his window—and his thoughts of the past--to face his best friend. "Weiss?  When'd they let you out of the hospital?"

"They didn't, but when I heard what happened, I sort of snuck out.  It was hard to leave L.A.'s best nurses," Weiss said with a sad smile.  He was using a crutch since his leg had not had the time to heal from the bullet wound the sniper had given him. "How are you?"

"Been better," Vaughn said, pointing at his bandaged injury. He frowned as his friend seemed be holding back something.  "What's wrong?"

"Lareby was just out in the hallway with an envelope for you. He told me it was from the fire, and he wanted to give it to you.  I convinced him that it would be better for me to do it.  He said that the fire burned so hot that the technicians were surprised that they were able to find it."

Even as he remembered the heat screaming off the flames consuming the warehouse, a cold feeling rushed over Vaughn.  "Whatever it is, how can they be sure it's mine?"

Eric tossed the manila envelope on the desk. "Because it has your name on it."

Vaughn ripped open the envelope and let the contents fall out.  It was the engagement ring that he'd given Diana.  

Say 'Yes'.  –Michael

"I'm sorry, Michael," Eric said as he walked out of his office.

Vaughn continued to stare at the ring. "Me, too," he said quietly.

***

Greg Lareby walked towards his car, anxiously looking over his shoulder.  He cursed himself for being so paranoid.  "It isn't like I killed her," he mumbled as he reached his car.  "All I had to do was tell them where to find her, and I did."  He nearly jumped out of his skin as the loud shrill of his cell phone startled him.

He pressed the talk button on his phone and waited.

"This is Agent Lareby, I presume," the clipped English voice started.

"It is," Lareby said evenly.

"I wanted to call to tell you that I've received Agent Rochelle.  She's a little worse for wear, but she'll do.   I can assure you that you will be receiving your payment shortly, Agent Lareby."

"Th-thank you," he said, a frown etching his face.  "What type of p-payment?"

The man on the other end laughed.  "The agreed upon amount."

"Of course, the agreed amount," Lareby repeated, feeling silly for still being paranoid.  "If there's nothing else—"

"No, Agent Lareby, there isn't anything else.  I'll be in touch."

"I'll expect it," Lareby replied as he closed his cell phone. He silently got into his car, and sank down into his seat.  He tried not to think of her smile or her asking him for advice.  He didn't want to think of her as a human being. She'd just been an assignment.  It wasn't like he killed her; he just carried out his part of the bargain. 


End file.
